Cloudburst
by Poisoned Scarlet
Summary: For Resbang 2015! Cursed by a witch in an effort to save his soul, Soul Evans resigns himself to the fate of being a feral animal in the sleepy town of Death City—that is, until the green-eyed volunteer with a loving smile and compassionate laugh catches his attention. She may just prove to be the catharsis needed to help him learn his lesson in redemption before it's too late.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** _I do not own Soul Eater._

 **Cloudburst  
by. **_Poisoned Scarlett_

 ** _a/n:_** _this fic is written in an episodic style so this is like a collection of moments between Soul and Maka with a plot tied in there. I hope you all enjoy the fic, and a happy New Year to everyone!_

i.

The days were cold, but Maka didn't mind: she just pulled on her thick purple hoodie and then zippered herself into an even thicker coat before heading out. She had always been more sensitive to the cold, but at least she could handle a little cold on her hands unlike her father as she walked down the block. The leaves on the trees already beginning to flick off; soon the trees would be bare, their branches tangling above her, forming crowns as they frosted over with the coming winter.

Despite the overabundance of trees and deep dunes of snow during the winters, Maka enjoyed her neighborhood. It was much better than the one she had grown up in and _anything_ was better than her father's cramped quarters with the beer-stained carpet and dimly painted walls.

"Hi, Marie! Do you have any new additions today?" Maka hollered cheerfully, pushing back her fuzzy hood as she entered the little adoption shelter down the street from where she lived. It was a quaint building with wide windows that stretched to the ceilings, framed with cream curtains tied back with bronze tassels. The walls were a welcoming shade of light green and the tiled floor had cute, black paw prints that led to the animal kennels in the back. The counter was newly stocked with animal products and Maka could spot Marie on her tip toes, trying to reach the top of the shelves to fit in a new metal food tray with the others.

"Oh, good morning, Maka!" Marie greeted cheerfully, cupping her hand over her mouth to shout, "Stein! Stein, Maka is here! STEIN!"

Maka vaguely heard Stein's mumbling in the back.

Marie was a beautiful woman with bright gold eyes and a smile to match. Her long hair was often curled at the tips, loose down her shoulders in a sunny shade of yellow. Her clothes reflected her happy personality as she always dressed in bright colors, but there was a little of her husband in her wardrobe as well. Specifically the black as when Stein appeared from behind the double doors, dressed in thick black pants and a plain gray t-shirt, his veterinary coat thrown over himself as if at the last second, the pair matched almost comically. Of course, to Marie's cheerful grin was Stein's grim frown. They seemed like polar opposites yet Maka had known Marie before she began dating Stein and had seen how close they had gotten over the years. They worked together like well-oiled gears despite Stein's exasperation over his bubbly girlfriend.

Stein stumbled out of the back room, looking he hadn't slept since yesterday. Knowing him, he probably hadn't. "Good evening, Maka."

"Stein, it's ten in the morning," Marie corrected wryly.

Stein blinked slowly, taking off his glasses to clean them with the edge of his shirt. He slipped them back on and hummed. "Ah. So it is."

"Anyway!" Marie laughed, scooting over to hide the way Stein was squinting out the window as if he hadn't seen daylight in years. "Are you here to see the puppies that were brought in yesterday? They're adorable, Maka! You should take one! In fact, you should take the spotted white one, he's so cute! You'll love him, come in!"

"Puppies?" Maka perked up, eyes shining. "Are they the only ones you've taken in recently?"

"And two pitbull's last week," Stein said.

"I saw them—the beige and black one, right?" Maka asked as she walked beside him, both following after Marie. "Are they healthy? They looked a little thin when they came in."

"They were underweight," Stein nodded. "They also hadn't had their shots nor did they have any other medical record on them. Not unusual," he sighed, "but it would be helpful if they had."

Maka smiled sympathetically. "Thanks to you two, they're eating now and with Marie at the front, they'll be adopted into loving homes in no time!"

"One good thing that comes from this job," Stein drawled. Maka smiled lopsidedly. Marie was now trying to pry the pen door open, scowling when she couldn't get a clasp undone. Stein took his sweet time helping. "Good luck. She'll be begging you to take a puppy home—by the— _end_ of this," he pried the clasp open with a grunt and stepped aside so Marie could pull Maka in, pointing at the puppies with an exulted grin.

"They're so cute! They're younger than I thought they'd be, though…" Maka commented worriedly, holding out her hand to let one puppy sniff it. It yipped and a giant grin broke on Maka's face. "Shouldn't they be with their mama?"

"They were brought in a box that said 'Free Puppies' by a good Samaritan. They'd been put out in the street for a day or two and no one had picked one up," Stein informed.

Marie bristled. "How could they just leave so many helpless puppies out on the street like that? That's so heartless, if I ever found the person responsible…! I would break their _nose in with my fist!"_ Marie puffed her cheeks, raising a hand to prove her point.

Stein didn't bat an eye. "You'd break your wrist and then I'd have to heal you."

"She'd be taken to a hospital," Maka arched a brow at the doctor.

"I'm a doctor, I can heal a broken wrist."

"An _animal_ doctor!"

"But I am _a_ doctor," he defended.

Marie leaned slyly over at Maka, whispering in a loud stage-whisper: "He's just sore about not being a human doctor because he stayed the night before his exam experimenting with something so he fell asleep halfway through," she winked and Maka could feel Stein's moody scowl from behind her. "Anyway! Look, this one is the one I was talking to you about…" Marie slipped her hand under the tender belly of a tiny spotted puppy—the runt of the litter, his eyes barely open. He trembled in her hand but did not make a sound, curling up when Marie cupped him to her chest. "See? Isn't he just the cutest? I was thinking about keeping him myself—!"

"—no, Marie, we run a shelter to give _away_ , not to keep—"

"—but Stein won't let me!" Marie pouted, wiggling her finger at the puppy's mouth. It suckled on it and she cooed. "Oh, please, Maka, take him so I can always visit him!"

"I'd love to, Marie, but," Maka began, once more rejecting an offer from the kind animal-loving woman. "I just…well…I'm not much of a dog person."

"Same," Stein droned.

Marie turned her nose up at him.

"Everyone is a dog person deep, deep, _deep_ inside!" Marie said this while looking at her boyfriend, who only pushed his glasses up his nose. "What do you like, then, Maka? You don't like birds or other small animals…or cats. That one time we brought in a litter of kittens from the kill-shelter across town, you refused them, too, and they were very adorable," Marie remembered. They sometimes dropped by kill-shelters when they had extra pens to spare to take in the animals who were set to be put down within a day or two. As far as Maka knew, however, the pair hadn't been able to do that much since all their pens were full as of late.

"I would take him in, but I'm a full-time student and he's practically a baby," Maka reasoned with a sad smile. "I'd have to take care of him until he's older and dogs are a little needy, right?"

"To be fair, all animals are," Marie smiled warmly. "Dogs are quite loyal to their owners, though, and he would adjust to your schedule. I think it'd do you some good to have a little dog around to distract you from all that studying you do."

"No," Stein appeared behind Maka, placing his hands on her shoulders in a fatherly manner. "She will graduate and become an M.D. like she promised me she would. Do not make the same mistake I have, Maka," he said, gravelly. Maka nearly snorted; he was so over-the-top sometimes. "As an M.D., you can study _humans,_ not animals—!"

"UPUPUPU!" Marie slapped a hand over his mouth. "No talk about opening up people _or_ animals in front of me!"

Stein pushed her hand off his mouth and gripped it in his own gently. "I forget you're sensitive. Why are we dating again?" He smirked when she smacked his cheek gently and, at that point, Maka needed to extricate herself from the affectionate forty-something year olds. Maka ignored the couple in front of her to look down at the puppy who was dozing off on her chest already.

The main reason she didn't adopt from the shelter was because Marie always pushed baby animals at her. She insisted it was because they were easier to train, but Maka truly had no time to go mothering a puppy or a kitten. She disliked birds because she grew up with some parrots whose incessant squawking completely jaded her from all sorts of flying animals. Other animals like bunnies or hamsters were messy and she knew from a friend that letting loose a bunny in the house was asking for chewed wires and little pebbles of poop everywhere. The only animal she was relatively fine with were cats, her only real issue being their constant shedding.

She _really_ didn't want to buy a roller to remove the cat hair stuck on her clothes every day.

These reasons were what always found her coming out of the shelter empty-handed—just like today, as Maka pushed the door open and waved at the couple. Already some volunteers were beginning to arrive, greeting Maka with bright smiles as they started a new day of helping to care for homeless animals.

And once more Maka found herself holding a hand to her chest, unable to shake off that nagging feeling that told her she'd feel a lot better if she weren't so alone all the time.

* * *

"How are your classes going?"

"Fine. I'm having some difficulty in Biology, though."

"Oh? Perhaps I can be of use. I passed all my Biology courses in college with A's."

"It's not necessarily the content; it's memorizing everything for the exams. My professor is very anal about details and I have issues remembering both the different parts and sub-categories for—!"

"Steeeeiinnn! Makaaaa! Can you two come in here for a second? Snoopy is sick!"

"Snoopy?" Maka glanced at Stein, who was drying his hands by the sink. She had been helping him bathe a newly-added dog; said dog was panting up at her happily, tail wagging.

"Four year old beagle. His previous owners weren't very creative with names," Stein shrugged. "I'll be right back. Please put Delilah in her pen after she's dry. We need to bathe four more dogs by the end of the day."

"Okay!"

And this was how a casual Saturday was spent for Maka: helping out at the animal shelter, often because Stein really _did_ know much about her courses in college and was one of the few people who had good advice for it. She could also relax and study with him as his memory was absurdly impressive and Maka is sure the only reason he hadn't tried for a medical license in order to work in a hospital was because he truly _did_ like caring for animals deep down—that or he was reluctant to leave Marie all alone for hours while he worked in a hospital.

"Alright, Delilah, are you ready for the drier?" Maka asked with a smile.

The dog only stared up at her uncomprehendingly, tongue lolling out.

Maka sighed; hopefully she wouldn't bark and run away like the others.

* * *

"There is a reason I dislike cats," Stein commented one afternoon as Maka undid her scarf from around her neck. She bundled it up so she could slip it into her coats pockets. The winter would be a cold one, snow already piling up on the streets in discomforting hills. There were shovel marks all down the sidewalks. But the coming holidays were rewarding for most shelters: it was the time of the year when the most animals were adopted.

However, this year, they had taken in an odd animal—a cat, a gorgeous pure white cat with a nasty, nasty temper from what she had heard. His ears were flat against his head all the time in fury. His eyes were a dark shade of burgundy, as beautiful and strange as Marie had described. He was quite big, bigger than what she would presume a normal housecat would be, but Stein had assured it was his breed—which he was still attempting to figure out. Stein guessed he was a mixed breed, if anything.

The cat's name was Soul and he had been brought in by a buxom lady with a cunning smile and lazy, sultry, eyes. Marie hated her on the spot, from what Stein had relayed, and she had taken the cat more because she hated the lady than because she should. Marie _really_ shouldn't have, too: the cat had more problems than their small, private, animal shelter should deal with—not medical issues, no, the lady had brought in a detailed medical record that Stein nearly cried over (in Stein-talk, that meant he cracked a smile) but rather the cat had another issue that was not so easily fixable.

"He's feral," Stein deadpanned.

"Feral?"

"We can't remove him the carrier—he attacks. He tore through my best gloves somehow and every time I try to feed him, he doesn't eat. He's seems to be aware that I've spiked his food," Stein frowned. "Not unusual, other cats have caught onto such ways before, but he hasn't eaten all day. He refuses water, too."

"Oh…" Maka looked back at the cat nervously. If the cat did not eat, Stein would resort to drastic measures and that was never good. "Maybe he's just nervous! He's probably never been out of the house before!" She approached the cat carrier Marie had pushed into the pen, the little door open in case Soul wanted to venture out. The cat, however, looked very displeased—furious, even, with the way his tail swiped side to side and his eyes glared at anyone who looked at him—and he had not stepped a paw out of the carrier since he arrived.

"We'll give him some time to adjust, this is likely very traumatic for him. But he _does_ need to eat," Stein caught Marie's holler and held a hand up to Maka. "Marie needs me—do _not_ get too close to the cat, he _will_ attack you."

"Got it," Maka nodded. She knelt by the pen, looking at him curiously. The cat finally shifted his eyes to her and she caught his throaty growl, the way his eyes slit at her menacingly. "Why are you so angry, Soul?" Maka asked him, quietly. "Is it because your owner gave you away?" His tail continued to flicker, expression unchanging. "It's okay. Marie and Stein are good people and they'll take great care of you until someone comes to adopt you! This is a no-kill shelter, so you can stay here until they find the perfect owner for you!"

The cat only glared at her harder.

Maka cocked her head, awkward. He seemed even _angrier_ than before, actually…

"Were you talking to the animals, Maka—oh, _him_ , oh, dear, he only gets angry when I talk to him!" Marie sighed, bending over to look at him, too. "I bet that hag of a woman abused him! I KNEW IT!"

"He seems so well taken care of," Maka commented, trailing her eyes over what little of his fur she could see since he was balled up in the carrier. "He's so white—his hair looks trimmed, too. I doubt it could've been that."

"SHE VERBALLY ABUSED HIM."

"He doesn't look like he cares much about what people say about him—he's a cat."

"SHE—SHE NEGLECTED HIM, HE'S SKINNY!"

"Hmm. I think he's really healthy! Stein told me he's in top shape."

"THEN—OH—UNGH—SHE DID SOMETHING TO HIM, I KNOW SHE DID! I don't trust that woman, the way she looked at Stein…" Marie bristled. Maka stifled a giggle in her hand. Marie was jealous again; nothing new. Stein was the deadest man she knew, but somehow Marie awakened something inside of him. But even Maka was quite sure Stein would never allow himself to be swayed in such a way; he was much too… _objective_ for that type of irrationality. That's what Maka believed, anyway.

"Well, I hope someone adopts him soon," Maka smiled caringly at the cat, who only turned his head and ignored her.

* * *

Six times.

Soul Eater, as Stein had taken to calling him, and not without a pinch of dark humor, had been adopted and returned _six times_ within the past three months.

Marie was more than worried—previous owns complained about his ferocity, the way he never left the carrier and scratched and bit anyone who tried to take him out. If he _did_ come out, it was only to use his litter or ruin the furniture— _on purpose_ , one couple exclaimed furiously, they had tried to shoo him and he had looked them dead in the eye and dug his claws into two-thousand dollar leather couches.

Needless to say, Soul was _lucky_ they returned to the same shelter and not a kill-shelter. He'd be put down instantly for his untamable ferocity.

Maka knelt before his pen, the very last one in the corner now. She opened his cage and pushed in a fresh bowl of food, taking out his water to change it, too. "How are you today, Soul?" Maka asked, knowing the cat would probably ignore her again. He stopped hissing at her the second time she returned to the shelter. Maka and Marie were the only ones able to change his food and water without gloves—or a stick. "I heard you were returned a few days ago. Didn't you like them?" She peered down and found him gazing up at her, eyes round and quiet. He wasn't so hostile today, Maka noticed curiously. Perhaps she caught him after a nap. He always seemed pleasant after sleep. "Well, maybe you'll like the next person who comes to adopt you. You're a very pretty cat, at least you'll never run out of adopters. But you can't keep coming back—one day, you won't come back here," Maka told him, closing the pen to wash the bowl and fill it with water. "You'll be sent to a kill shelter or worse, thrown out on the street. Some people are like that when they're angry," she knelt, opened his cage, and pushed in the tray of water. She stayed like that for a second, watching him stare darkly at his food.

"Hopefully you like the next adopter," Maka offered the cat a sad smile. "I wouldn't want you to stay here all by yourself. Marie and Stein usually take in dogs, you'll be really lonely." The cat shifted his head towards her again, looking at her cautiously. He adjusted his paws under him, scooting closer.

Maka suddenly beamed at the cat. "But if that happens, I'll just keep you company longer! As long as you don't try to claw my face off…," Maka inched back and closed the pen door, locking it.

"Maka?"

"Yes, Marie?"

"Can you help me with this bag of dog food, please? I can't unload it from the cart and Stein is busy with something!"

"Okay!" Maka looked back down at the cat, finding him completely out of his carrier with his face pressed against the wire bars. That was very odd; he hardly stepped out of the carrier for anything other than food or water. She was tempted to reach down to poke his cheek but Marie sounded distressed. "I'll see you later, Soul! Be good!"

And thus concluded another day at the animal shelter.

* * *

Ten times adopted and returned.

Five months going on six.

He was officially the longest-kept animal in the shelter.

Maka felt sad for him. He seemed to realize this, too, because every time she changed his food and water, he would peer out and watch her with those big red eyes of his. He was such a beautiful cat but very hostile, very difficult to live with. Maka liked to think he was tamer than when he first came in but Stein would just shrug and Marie bit her lip, fiddling with her shirt as nervous habit taught her. The other volunteers couldn't get close to him at all still, even the long-term ones Soul saw frequently.

Only Marie and Maka could afford to get close to him and, as Maka recently discovered, only Maka's presence could coax the cat out of his carrier and into the actual pen. Only _Maka_ could make him press against the wires, even meow when he wanted her attention.

Which was what prompted _this_ argument.

"PLEASE Maka? Soul really, really likes you and I think he can be happy with you! No one else can take him, he's very hostile with them!" Marie pleaded. "He's an adult cat, too, all you need to do is change his food and water! He'll take care of himself!"

"Yeah, but…"

"We'll give you discounts on the food!"

"Um…"

"Toys?"

"Soul hates toys."

"See? You know him so well already!"

Maka shook her head. "I'm sorry, Marie, but I'm not interested in owning a cat right now…or any animal, really. I just, well, I like coming here to help you guys out when I can. I can't come often, but when I'm here it's mostly to relax because I like helping you two out. If I took Soul in, I wouldn't like leaving him at home for so long by himself—!"

"YOU CAN BRING HIM HERE! FOR VISITS!"

"I don't know how that would fly with Soul," Maka wryly commented.

"He probably hates this place by now," Stein drawled from behind the two women, snapping off a glove. "I finished the check up on the Chihuahua. One of the new volunteers is with her right now."

"Oh, Chica, you mean?"

Stein resisted a roll of the eyes at the name. "Yes. Chica. She _yearns_ for you," he added, meaningfully.

"Oh, sure! She doesn't like being alone too much, the poor thing!" Marie nodded, understandingly. Marie gave Maka one last hopeful smile before heading to the back room.

"She's easily distracted when it involves wounded animals," Stein murmured by way of excuse, but he had a small smile on his face. He turned to Maka after a few seconds of silence. "Are you sure you won't take Soul in, Maka?"

Maka cringed. "Not you, too, Stein!"

"I'm not forcing you," Stein held up a hand in peace. "He does, however, express interest in you. He's kinder towards you and he doesn't openly attack you, either. He has never attacked you. He attacked Marie twice—!"

" _Really?_ He's bitten her?" Maka gasped.

"She was trying to pet him," Stein explained, grimly. "He did _not_ like it."

"I haven't pet him. He's a little timid about being pet," Maka defended. Stein cracked a smile. "Eventually, maybe he'll let himself…he's going to be staying here for a while, isn't he?"

"A _long_ time," Stein shoved his hands in his lab coats pockets. "Well, if you ever wish to adopt him, you are welcome to. The offer is always open to you."

Maka hesitated but nodded. "R-right…thanks, Stein."

This time, the day ended with Maka gazing at the cage and feeling guilt weigh on her heart when she found the cat curled up, lonesome—turned away from her, not even twitching an ear today when she said goodbye to him.

* * *

Two weeks—she lasted two weeks before she couldn't take it anymore and she ended up adopting him. Marie hadn't even been the cause for it! She was just fed up with the cat's sudden _distance_ from her. He didn't come out of the carrier anymore, he ignored her, and whenever she talked to him he just turned away and probably glared at the wall.

He also seemed sad, from the times when she caught him looking at her.

The _sadness_ was what really prompted her to adopt him.

"And here's a food tray and his favorite brand of cat food! Hmm, should I throw in feather toy, too, maybe he'd like a mouse—?"

"No, thanks, Marie, just what's necessary," Maka stopped her there. Soul was in his carrier looking at her with wide eyes as she took out her wallet and pulled out her debit card. He looked bewildered; she didn't blame him; she felt a little bewildered by her actions as well. "I'm a little tight on money right now, don't make me pay for more than I need to—wait, you forgot to scan the food!" Maka pointed out, as Marie was already packing up all the necessities Soul would need.

Marie smiled warmly. "I did tell you the food would be free, right?"

"You said discounted!" Maka insisted.

"Same thing!" Marie giggled, holding out two bags. "It's okay, Maka, really. Think of it as a gift for all the help you've been to the shelter." Marie smiled tenderly at her. Maka returned the gesture. "Do you need help with all this? I can send Stein to carry these back to your apartment!"

"No, it's fine! He's busy with a check-up right now, anyway. I don't want to disturb him. You know how he gets."

"Don't I?" Marie sighed, but her smile remained fond.

Maka held the bags in one hand and the carrier in the other. "I can do it—I live just down the block!"

"If you say so…are you coming back?"

"No, I have to finish my homework! I have a lot this week! But I'll call when I get back!"

"Please do! Bye bye, Maka! And Soul! Fingers crossed!" Marie whispered the last bit with a wink.

Maka said her last goodbye, heading out the door. It was cooler now, still not scalding hot but also not freezing. It was a nice temperature to be outside in; she hoped it would last a while. Maka walked slowly, pausing a few times to get a better grip on her bags. She would need to go out later to buy a litter box since it was the one thing she couldn't carry. She knew they were pricy with Marie and cheaper at the grocery store, so she would head over there after she released Soul into her apartment.

Perhaps the solitude would help him acclimate to his new surroundings better.

By the time Maka made it to her apartment, her fingers were aching. Maka placed Soul's carrier on the ground as she fumbled for her keys, opening the door wide so she could grab the carrier and walk in without trouble.

She had a small apartment—a studio, which was just enough for her. It wasn't all that extravagant and there was really nowhere Soul could hide or anything he could really ruin. She would be honest: although her couches weren't ugly, they weren't something she treasured, either. She supposed she'd be upset if he trashed her futon or blankets—or even the legs of the table, but aside from that everything wasn't that valuable or expensive. A lot of furniture came from the thrift shop. One thing Maka _did_ keep was an orderly apartment and the cat, from what she could see, scanned everywhere silently and drank in his new home with the scrutiny of a detective.

Maka set his carrier by a lone corner in the room. She set his things down in the kitchen and served him fresh food and water before heading to the living room again.

Maka knelt by his carrier, smiling welcomingly at Soul. "Okay, hopefully I don't become your eleventh owner. Your food and water is in the kitchen and right now I'm going to buy you a litter box and some litter. I'm going to open the door… _please_ don't trash my sheets, I just bought them last month!" She prayed and opened the door to his carrier

As expected, he did not come out.

Maka stepped back and grabbed the keys she'd thrown on the couch.

"I'll be back in a bit! And welcome home, Soul!" Maka added warmly as she closed the door behind her, overlooking the bright-eyed way the cat looked back at her with.

That day, Soul had become taken with the corner of her couch and _did not_ scratch anything—not even the scratching post Maka had bought him last-minute. Although he _did_ steal a piece of the left-over salmon she was going to eat for dinner but, after chasing him around the living room and watching him swallow the piece with a cattish smile, Maka let him off with a warning and ate the rest of her meal with an arm over her plate.

Even still, Maka slept better than she had in years.

* * *

Today found her taking a day off from the shelter.

She had been living with Soul for approximately three and a half weeks and, so far, she had no problems with the cat. He behaved, for the most part, although she did scold him when she found him playing with a loose thread from one of her shirts. He had not ripped her shirt, but she was sure if she hadn't caught him he would have and then looked at her with those wide, glossy eyes and gotten out of trouble.

He was surprisingly good at using wide, sad, eyes.

Maka had made note to resist before it really got out of hand.

However, Soul was surprisingly easy to live with. She did not know if it was because Soul liked her or because she was so swamped with work that she did not bother him in the first place.

One thing she _did_ know: he watched her a lot—when she did homework, when she lied on the couch watching TV, when she ate food, when she read. Maka had still not worked up enough nerve to try and pet him, even if he looked willing, but it worked for both of them. Maka kept her distance because, from what she had read, if Soul _really_ wanted attention he would come to her—and he had, once…

But he had been hungry, so she didn't think that counted.

"Ngh!" Maka stretched her arms over her head, her eyes heavy. She looked at the clock: two thirty four in the morning. She sighed. She was going to end up pulling another all-nighter to finish her paper. It was a good thing she had class at two in the afternoon. Perhaps she could put in five hours or so before she dragged herself out of bed. She could really use a car; she wondered how much money she would have to save to buy one, even a dinky ride from those sellers on the street.

Maka rubbed her eyes out and went back to her paper. She looked around after typing down a few more words and found Soul curled up by the couch. His eyes were closed so she went back to her paper. But when she looked back a few minutes later, his eyes were open and his ear twitched when she caught his gaze. She smiled and he shifted, stretching and hopping off the cushion. He leaped on her bed and walked to the edge closest to her, curling back up and closing his eyes. His tail, however, swayed contently.

Maka smiled, going back to her paper with new motivation.

Perhaps owning a cat was not so bad after all.

* * *

Soul had strange tendencies—she would argue they were human-like sometimes, such as insisting he eat his meals by the table when she did, even if his meals consisted of cat kibble with some canned cat food every other day. Soul also slept in his carrier when she went to sleep and, during the nights when she stayed up finishing her homework, he either slept in his carrier or kept her company by curling as close to her as possible without touching.

Soul also watched television.

She thought it was cute when it first happened; one of those little animal habits other owners talked about. He would lounge on the far edge of the couch, watching whatever she was watching, flattening his ears when she changed the channel to something he did not like. He'd _stare at her_ with flat ears until she changed it. She had even taken to leaving the television on jazz music channels or ESPN networks, even MTV sometimes worked, whenever she was out of the house for extended hours.

Soul would also rush under furniture when she undressed.

The first time it happened, she thought strawberry print underwear and bra sets scared him. He had rushed under her couch faster than she could blink and hadn't come out for an hour. The second time it happened, she had worn plain yellow undies matched with a white bra. The same thing happened. She hadn't been too concerned, except there were times when she liked to parade around the comfortable solitude of her apartment in her undies.

She figured owning an animal would not change things.

"Soul," Maka knelt by the couch, peeking under it. She was stripped down to black boy shorts with her plain white bra today. "Come on! We have to eat or else your food will go bad if I leave it out for too long! It's tunaaaaa," she coaxed but he only made a noise in his throat, something like a meow and a growl, and she frowned. "What's wrong, are you sick? Do I have to take you back to Stein?"

That _quickly_ had him crawling out from under the couch.

Maka straightened and cocked her head at the cat when he looked up and then away, ears flat on his head, body small and tense in panic.

" _Weeeeeir_ -ohh," Maka enunciated, laughing when Soul hissed lowly at her and scurried over to the kitchen table. "Eh—don't tell me you're shy because I'm in my underwear?" She teased, giggling when her cat only yowled loudly and waited for his food by the edge of the table with firm annoyance. "That's silly," Maka commented, walking over to get his dish from out of the refrigerator. Soul liked it when the canned food was cold. When she first gave Soul room-temperature food, he had flattened his ears and refused to eat. She figured it was because, at the shelter, Stein often crammed excess food cans in the fridge when he was too lazy to carry it to the back storage room.

"You're a cat, why should you be shy about this—you don't know any better," she blinked when Soul hissed. When she shot him a look from the corner of her eye, she found her cat watching her avidly.

She scowled and turned and he jumped, wide-eyed.

Maka smiled an exasperated sort of smile, curious of his reaction. "Are you that hungry? I'm pretty sure I fed you this morning…" She was sure; she'd even washed his dish! She went back to his food and mashed it a bit before walking over and placing it before him. He stared at the plate intensely and then dug in. Maka crossed her arms over her chest. "You must've been hungrier today. I'll give you some more if you want."

When her cat ignored her, Maka fixed up her own plate of food and went to the table. Usually, she and Soul finished around the same time despite his head-starts but, today, Soul finished before she got three spoonful's in and quickly darted back to the couch.

He did not spare her a single glance until she changed and, even then, he was annoyed with her—giving her dark looks, one ear flat and the other alert, his tail whipping back and forth.

Maka gave him some extra beef bits for dinner to placate him before heading out for her night-shift.

* * *

Today found Maka half-dead with sleep biting at the edges of her vision. She had even taken to drinking coffee, but it was only ending in her crash by the time four o'clock came in. Maka was just happy she had her day off today and only needed to focus on her exams.

"I'll probably drop by the shelter tomorrow, okay?" Maka told Marie over the phone, feeling like she would doze off if she spent another second sitting down. She was in the kitchen, her food growing cold before her. She was not hungry but she had not eaten well the past week, her finals week being literal hell for her. "Maybe both of you can quiz me for my anatomy exam tomorrow at seven."

Maka was sure she was talking to Marie—she was _sure_ of it—but next thing she knew, she felt something wet prodding her cheek. Then it was soft, like feathers, and she leaned towards it, murmuring incoherently. Then she felt something wet and rough and _then_ she felt a sting on her cheek and she shot straight up with a yelp. Breathing hard, Maka shot her eyes towards Soul, who sat on the table by her head silently. Or worriedly.

He meowed.

Maka blinked owlishly.

"You meowed. You _never_ meow," Maka stated, dumbly. She held her head in her hand, leaning forward with a groan. "I must look _really_ bad if you're being vocal now."

He meowed again, longer this time.

Maka shot him a dry look. "Thanks, Soul."

He flicked his tail on her shoulder and hopped off the table, walking over to the couch. But he looked over his shoulder expectantly before he hopped onto the cushion. Maka dragged herself up after a second, dropping herself back on the couch right beside Soul. Thankfully, he did not seem angry that she had breached his space. She could not really judge distance when she felt like her eyes were bricks.

She was exhausted, hungry, and worst of all, frustrated.

"This is so hard," she said, softly. "I'm barely twenty three and I want…sometimes I want to drop out of college and just work. But," she smiled, sadly, "I want to go to med school. I want to get into a good medical program. But the work's heavy—it's-it's a goddamn _hell_. I barely talk to my friends now. I only work one hour or so in the shelter but my honor classes makes even taking an hour off difficult. I have a C in Bio…its highest grade out of everyone, too," she groaned. She felt tears prick her eyes; she felt terrible and the words just kept coming one by one like a torrent. "I barely managed to pay the rent this month because papa needed some money and I gave it to him. I can't put in anymore hours at work, either, or else I won't have enough time to sleep—I didn't even sleep last night, I was out working," she tipped her head back, her voice cracking. "This is—"

She placed her arm over her eyes. " _This is_ _really_ _hard_."

Although Soul could never speak, she liked to think he was listening to her and it helped her a great deal more than she believed it would. She was rubbing her eyes out a minute later, her determination coming back despite her weak moment, when she felt weight on her lap. Glassy-eyed, Maka looked down and found Soul stubbornly curled up on her lap. He rubbed his head against her stomach and Maka stared, surprised. Her hand twitched and she placed a gentle hand on his neck. His fur was so soft, silky smooth and thick, and when she scratched behind his ears, he rubbed his head against her wrist and meowed again.

She felt more tears prick her eyes and then she was crying, letting out months of pent-up emotions as she scooped up Soul and squished his prone body to her chest. She cried into his fur and held him tight. He did not push her away, never hissed or growled. He just let her hold him and, when she was done, he was purring.

"Thanks, Soul," she whispered and fell on her side on the couch. She tucked him close to her chest and closed her eyes, burying her nose in his neck as he curled closer to her—his purring as soft as a lullaby.

* * *

Today found her splurging a bit on her cat—the cat who had grown on her over the past months, who she liked to talk about whenever she dropped by the shelter. It was odd and she sometimes wondered if she was turning into one of those cat lady's, but she truly did care for her cat. He had helped her in more ways than one and she was grateful for his companionship— _even_ if he could be a little brat sometimes.

"Put the collar _on_ , Soul!" Maka screeched, chasing the mischievous cat around her couch. Maka stopped on the other side, glaring at him. "Soul. Come here." She demanded, staring him down. He seemed to recoil at the sight of the collar, hissing for the first time since he came in. "You need to have a collar, Soul, it's law!"

He hissed louder.

"SOUL!"

He looked at her disdainfully and Maka scowled. "If you don't put on this collar…I'll…I'll ignore you for a whole week!" She threatened, sighing when he flicked his tail at her and sauntered back to his carrier. Maka had decided to leave the carrier out for him but she noticed he only used it when he was irritated. In this case, he was beyond irritated with the fact that she wanted to put a collar on him.

"Ugh! Fine, don't put it on, you brat!"

Maka flopped back on her bed, looking at the chain-link collar she had bought him with a pout. It was cool—at least she _thought_ it was, and his tag wasn't anything fancy: it was a steel circle with all his information on it. She figured after owning him for a few months, he had become a permanent part of her family and she would collar him in case he ever wandered away. She knew cats liked to do that sometimes. She had also wanted to take Soul out of the house a little, since he liked being carried by her nowadays.

But _apparently_ the one thing Soul refused to do was wear a collar. He was quite lenient with most other things—especially cuddling, he seemed to have a love-hate relationship with it. On the times he did not tentatively ask for it, she would pick him up and coddle him even if he meowed in protest, but he would eventually settle down and doze in her arms. That was why she thought the threat of _ignoring_ him would work. But it hadn't seemed to faze him…

Maka huffed, curling up on her bed for a nap. She bet the cat thought she wouldn't last a week without paying attention to him! Well, he thought wrong! She could ignore someone for a week and she would get the collar around his neck, even if it cost her a few days of not having her cat purring against her chest.

* * *

Three days. That was how long it took her to crack.

Soul had come around a few hours after their little collar-spat but she had ignored him, ignoring his hesitant head-butts and pawing. She even managed to ignore his sad meowing on day one. She had to forcefully extricate him from her leg every time he clung onto her sweatpants on the second day, but day three had been when she broke down.

He was obviously depressed and when he walked up to her with regretful, downcast eyes she groaned and dropped down to her knees and squished him to her chest.

"I'm sorry, Soul, I won't ignore you again," she cried, squishing him to her chest even tighter than before. He was purring very loudly, his tail swaying happily as she coddled him. She planted a big kiss on his head and then he tried to squirm away, whining out a meow. "You don't have to wear the collar," she caressed his ears, standing up so she could walk over to the couch, Soul hanging from her arms with a dopey purr. "Just don't go outside," she told him and nestled him on her lap. "I wanted to take you some places, but you need a collar to be outside. It's okay, though, I don't think you'd like it anyway—there's a lot of people, you could get lost, too."

She rubbed his back and chin for an hour or so, watching late night TV for once since she had finished her semester. Vacation time was always treasured. When her eyes began to droop, Maka scooped Soul up and dragged herself to her bed. She laid him down on the corner of her bed as she pulled her covers down and slipped underneath. She was about to turn over when she heard metal chinks. Maka blindly patted her side and grabbed his collar. She was about to toss it on her bedside table when she heard a loud meow.

Soul jumped by her head, startling her, and meowed again.

He sat down and looked at her expectantly.

Maka blinked and looked at the collar. "You want to put it on?"

He came closer and Maka carefully clasped the collar around his neck. He shook himself and yawned widely, then suddenly dashed under her covers. That little sneak! He had planned this all along!

"Ack—no, Soul, you'll get hair everywhere—ugh…" Maka felt him curl up against her knee and she gave up, deciding she'd let him sleep with her for tonight only.

* * *

Another evening found Maka scolding Soul—again.

" _Souuuul_ ," Maka glared, clutching the cat to her chest, half-way changed. Her jeans were still unbuttoned and her shirt was splayed on her bed. In fact, the shirt was the reason she was clutching a yowling cat against her naked chest. He didn't dare claw her, but he was hard as rock against her, wide-eyed with his ears flat and his yowls desperate. "Look at the shirt. Look at it!"

She prodded Soul's cheek and forced him to look at her shirt.

"I told you _not_ to go playing with my shirts! Look—now it's ripped from the side!" Maka poked his nose with one finger and he startled, staring at her. "No! Playing! With! My! Shirts!" She poked his nose gently each time and he only stared back at her, frozen, and then tried to melt out of her arms. Maka caught him before he could. "Ah—ouch!" She pushed his stiff paw away from her breast and blinked when he suddenly came back to life and yowled desperately, reaching for the floor. She let him fall out of her arms and he darted under the bed the instant his paws touched the floor. She was sure he had curled up at the very corner. "No playing with my shirts, Soul, or else!" She warned one last time.

Maka had just finished pulling on a shirt and her boots when Soul tentatively crawled out from under the bed.

He looked frightened and Maka's eyes softened.

"It's okay—come here," Maka cooed, reaching over to gently scratch his head. "I just don't want you to ruin all my shirts. Okay?" He looked slightly less frightened, but had trouble meeting her eyes. "I'll leave the TV on jazz until I get back!"

He hurried over to the couch and curled in it and, upon second thought, Maka squished her nose into her cat's neck affectionately and laughed when he yowled in familiar annoyance. She kissed the top of his head in goodbye and happily grabbed her backpack and thermos of coffee for work.

"I'll be back around midnight! We're closing the shop later than usual tonight because of some event across the street!" she hollered and sent her companion one last smile before she left, thinking that owning a cat was much like living with a person. She liked telling him goodbye, telling him 'I'm back', and talking to him about her day—about anything. After years of living alone, it was a relief to have someone there when she came back—even if that 'someone' was a cat.

It made her feel a little less alone in the world and in the end that was all that really mattered to Maka.

* * *

Two weeks later found her feeling not so alone in the world for different reasons—not really the reasons she wanted, if she were being truly honest.

"Is there _any way_ you can put that damn cat of yours in the bathroom?" Liz paced, her thoughts racing while Maka shifted uneasily on the couch. She was dressed up as per Liz's orders; she had worn her best clothes: a black flared skirt with kitten heels and she had matched it with a silk white button-up and a cardigan. Maka had even let her hair down for the occasion, something Liz complimented on her with a wide grin. Overall, Maka was dressed for what she presumed was a girls-night-out that involved hanging out with her friends (for _once_ ) and ending the night with a nice dinner.

She was wrong.

"Look, there's this guy—he's great, he's your type: he's tall, he likes to read, and he even has nice eyes!"

"Wh—wait, how do you even know I'd like him? How do you even _know_ my type?!" Maka demanded, skeptical.

"Truuuust me," Liz drawled, standing behind her confidently. "I know your type: smooth on the outside, dorky on the inside. I got you, Maka, now to make this less awkward I'm going to accompany you two. Kind of like a third-wheel but not really because I can handle myself," she assured.

"B-but what about Tsubaki? Patty? I thought they were coming, too?"

"They were but," Liz paused. "Tsubaki's celebrating her anniversary with her boyfriend and Patty's tired because she works night shift at Death Mart and today's her day off."

" _Oh_ ," Maka mumbled, scrunching her skirt in her fists. "I didn't know—Tsubaki has a boyfriend now?"

"Yeah," Liz nods, a little sharply. Her fist clenched. Maka cocked her head at her but before she could ask, Liz continued, "She's been with him for some time now. Apparently, it's going along well. Even if he's a _total_ idiot."

"And…Patty has a job…" She hadn't known they'd moved on so quickly; it made her chest feel heavy, since the last time she saw them Tsubaki had been happily single and Patty still had no job experience. She hadn't even known they had grown so much; they hadn't even _told_ her, she added quietly to herself, but before these gloomy thoughts could consume her, Soul leaped onto her lap and pawed her stomach. "Soul, don't do that, you'll ruin my skirt," she murmured, gently taking his paw in her hand. He let her do most of anything to him now—like squeeze him, play with his paws, his tail, rub his belly, the underside of his chin. He even let her use him as a scarf, which she had _once_ as a joke but he had curled into her neck and yawned in her ear.

"She wanted to tell you personally," Liz told Maka after a moment and smiled comfortingly. "Tsubaki wanted you to meet him personally, and Patty wanted to tell you about her job after she wins employee of the month."

"Employee of the month?"

"She really does admire you, you know," Liz grins.

Maka looked down, face warm but her eyes glowing brightly. That is, until Soul pawed at her thigh and gave her a stern look—a look that almost said _are you really going to believe that?_ And before Maka could frown or cock her head at her perceptive cat, he hissed at Liz when she moved closer.

"Maka, can you get that cat out of here?" She glared at Soul and Maka swore Soul _glared right back._ "He'll probably attack Kid when he arrives."

"He won't do that," Maka insisted, but the look in Liz's eye said otherwise. Soul hadn't attacked Liz when she first dropped by, only kept his distance and wandered over to her pillow to sleep while she and Liz talked. Then again, Maka knew male cats were more possessive than female cats. The same could be said about dogs and other animals. But he could not do that much harm, would he?

Maka spoke too soon.

Kid was a nice man, she supposed. He was a _man_ and that automatically put him on her danger radar, but he seemed more _decent_ than other men. She would rate him a solid eight if Liz ever asked, which she would after everything died down. He wore formal clothing—black slacks and a pea coat, his dress shoes shining under the lights of her hallway—and his hair was impeccably coifed, the white stripes that adorned one side of his head a strange detail. Maka figured Liz thought she would like him because of his formal appearance, his rather standoffish but pleasing smile, his confident manner of speech.

He was a gentleman and although Maka had a guilty pleasure for those sort of gestures, Kid was otherwise just _alright_ in her book. Most men would otherwise be alright in her book, if not a variety of other disparaging terms she mostly kept to herself. But Liz was right about one thing and that was his _eyes._ Maka was a sucker for eyes; one look could melt her into goo. It was something that had messed her up, something she made sure to never blind her again. There was a saying that the eyes were the windows to the soul, but she had only found lies when she peered in. It had happened to her in the first year of college— _those_ eyes being steel gray, very beautiful, reflecting the surface of the world.

They had been lies.

Kid's eyes were _gold_ and she had trouble looking him in the face because of it, shifting uncomfortably as bad memories resurfaced. It didn't help that Liz mistook her discomfort for shyness, telling stories about her and emphasizing how _cute_ she was.

And that was where her cat put his paw down.

"S-Soul!" Maka squeaked, squeezing him to her chest tightly. He was hissing at Kid, growling viciously like when he had first been put into the shelter. He was completely beside himself; Maka didn't know what had set him off. Perhaps it had been Kid's cologne? Maybe Soul hadn't liked it when Kid called him pretty—even though she called _him_ pretty all the time and he didn't even bat an eye.

"Maka, put that cat in the bathroom or something! Before he rips Kid's face off!"

Soul's hackles rose.

"I don't know what's gotten into him! He's never been this violent before—Soul, STOP!" She shouted and he _did_ stop, freezing in her arms. He looked up at her with wide eyes, ears flat on his head, and her anger subsided a little. He looked scared; she hadn't meant to startle him that much. "Soul, stop. He's not going to hurt me or you. He's just a friend."

Soul just flattened himself against her.

Liz breathed out. "Jesus, he's crazy."

"Ahh. What a… _nice_ character you have there," was all Kid commented on the stunt.

Maka didn't like it, how he looked around her apartment with an air of mild distaste. Even the way he looked at her cat spelled _distasteful._ Maka couldn't quite place what was _off_ with Kid, but while she did admire his golden eyes, she admitted her attraction died off there. He was smart; she could see it. He was polite; she could see that very well. Maka should not have expected much, however: if men weren't total scumbags out front, they were scumbags in different ways or they were just nothing at all. He even seemed more _boring_ than her. There wasn't anything that particularly stood out for her—except his eyes—and grasping onto his one good trait (in her opinion) was asking for heartbreak.

 _Like last time,_ Maka thought with a sting in her heart _. Pretty eyes will never change that fact!_

"We should get going—come on, Maka, Kid booked up this nice little restaurant by my house. You'll love it! Get your coat and let's go!"

"Okay," Maka stood up, Soul still held in her arms. She wandered over to her closet while Liz and Kid spoke. "Soul, get off!" She tried to pull him off her but he refused, stubbornly sinking his claws into her shirt. "You're going to pull my shirt and I'll get angry—damn it, Soul!" She frowned. "Don't you like him?"

He growled in reply.

"No?"

He growled low in his throat, ears flat against his head.

"It's fine—I don't like him, either," She whispered conspiratorially to the cat. He perked up at that, staring her down with bright ruby eyes. She grinned at him. "Liz was right about one thing: I love eyes. Even if they're just lies in the end," she added, more to herself than her cat. "Kid also kind of gets on my nerves," her lip twitched, remembering how he had taken a jab at her furniture. Even Liz had winced at that. She looked at her cat for a second and added, "If only there was a man with eyes like yours—because you _never_ lie to me, you always tell me truth," she murmured with a hint of bitterness when suddenly her cat began to wiggle around, staring into her eyes with something close to _urgency?_ "Eyes like yours aren't possible, though…they never will be." Soul yowled suddenly and Maka jumped, concerned. It almost sounded like he wanted to talk, but he was a cat. He couldn't possibly do that. "Soul, are you okay?"

"Maka, your cat sounds like he's dying! Is he?"

Maka shot a glare at Liz. " _No_ , he's just a little upset. Wait up, let me calm him down." She squeezed him tight and whispered quiet affections in his ear until he stopped yowling. She smiled down at him when he finally looked up, broody. "I'm going to have dinner with these two and then we can stay up and watch movies, okay?" She set him down on her pillow and he watched her with that scrutiny she had come to associate with her perceptive cat. Maka pulled on her jacket and slipped her wallet into one of the pockets.

"Done?" Liz hollered.

"Yeah, I'm coming!" She pointed a finger at Soul before she left. "Behave, Soul. I don't want to come home to my sheets on the floor because you rolled around in them." She smiled at him. "I'll be back soon!"

She couldn't help but notice that as she stepped through the threshold of the door, Soul looked more unhappy than angry.

She wondered if he could talk, just what he would say.

* * *

The next day found her broody, scowling up at the ceiling.

Kid was definitely not someone she would enjoy dating and he seemed to have the same idea, too. In fact, he seemed to like her friend Liz more than he did her. So in the end it had backfired on Liz: Maka ended up pushing the two together instead of the other way around. It suited Maka just fine; sure, Liz made jokes about being a cat-lady if she didn't attempt to date before med school, but Maka was content as she was.

She only needed her cat.

"Men are dumb," Maka told him that evening, staring at the ceiling. She was on her back with Soul on her tummy. "Just like my papa—and just like _Hiro!_ They sweet talk you," she pet his head, "and then they take you on nice dates, they pretend like everything is going to work out," she pet him harder, her teeth gritting, "and then they just _let you down._ They let you down again and _again_ and each time it just _hurts more—!_ And I'm sick of that—of them, just ruining people's hearts because they're so _stupid."_

She did not need men, she told her cat, scratching behind his ear. She told him she only needed _him_ and, as it turned out, her cat was like a multi-purpose switchblade.

"Quit thinking like that," he rumbled sternly, voice a deep baritone that made her shudder pleasantly. She stared into gorgeous ruby eyes—burgundy now, a shade of red that Maka had a difficult time looking away from. His body was lean and heavy over her own, hands pinning her shoulders on the couch. His nails were sharp, they clung onto her shirt like a cats. His hair was snowy white, spiked back, strands of it framing his face handsomely. "Yeah, your dad's pretty scummy and your ex-boyfriend is a dick, but if you keep thinking like that—it won't change anything, you won't be happy. You can't go out with that mindset—nothing…nothing will work if you think that way," he trailed off, lowering his eyes in slow realization.

She gaped.

The man's eyes tightened all of a sudden and he squeezed her wrists gently. His eyes were beautiful and sympathetic, she thought absently, as if he actually understood when that could not have been more wrong. Right?

"And tell Liz to fuck off. She'll try to hook you up some guy _again_ and maybe that one won't be so nice," he growled and he _sounded_ like her cat, his sharp teeth jutting out from between his lips. She could just barely see his tail swaying behind him, his soft cat ears flattened on his snowy head in irritation. "I can't claw that bastard's face off if I'm not there!"

Her cat— _what happened to her cat?_ She thought, shell-shocked. This man—she had seen a flash of light, heard a rustle, and then he had been over her and looking imploringly into her eyes. Much like her cat did—what the hell happened to her _cat?_

"You…" she choked, face whitening. "You're _not_ my cat!"

"Hah? Yeah, I am!" Soul suddenly brought a hand up to his face. His eyes widened and sunlight bore into them, illuminating them a cherry red. Maka felt her face heat up and her heart pounded so loudly in her chest, she was sure he could hear it.

Her mind raced and then set: he was _not_ her cat.

If he was not her cat, then how could she explain the burst of light? The way her cat had been lounging on her tummy before _this_ happened? There was no other way she could make sense of it: her cat had transformed…into a white-haired human _man_ who was looking at her with a sharp-toothed grin.

"Holy shit, I'm human!"

Maka screamed and punched him in the face.


	2. Chapter 2

**Cloudburst  
by.** _Poisoned Scarlett_

ii.

In her comfy loft, Witch Arachne stretched her arms over her head, letting out a long breath as she settled into her recliner. She had just returned from an extended trip to Norway and she was absolutely exhausted. She could use another spa day except those were saved for truly stressful times; this trip had gone smoothly and as could be expected. The witch conjured a mirror, pulled her skin up from her brow with a frown and decided she would need a massage in order to alleviate those horrible bags under her eyes. The jobs she was assigned were gradually becoming more and more difficult to handle; she decided she'd tone down her spell-casting. She wanted to reach her queue as soon as possible, of course, but slow and steady won the race.

Lord Death would also not like it if she cursed too many people with no results.

That was not, after all, the objective.

Suddenly, the gem resting on her chest flashed, and Arachne pinched the thin chain between her long nails and brought it closer to her violet-webbed eyes, gazing at the pulsing stone.

"Oh?" She smiled widely, gazing down at the frantic images of Soul Evans and his master, Maka Albarn. It did not look good. She laughed when Maka Albarn grabbed a lamp off her table side and threatened Soul with it. "Learned your lesson now, have you?" She squinted and chuckled. "Or not yet, but you're on your way. She was a good match for you after all," she hummed, interested in the curious white glow that surrounded that young girl Soul had stumbled into. "Well, I suppose it's time for a visit!"

She wished it could wait but, judging by how the girl had now picked up a vase and was threatening to throw it at the poor cat-boy, she decided an intervention was necessary. After all, it was her job to teach moral lessons, not have her meddling result in a casualty or two. Lord Death would extend her contract if that happened and that certainly would not do for her at all.

She snapped her fingers.

The next time she opened her eyes, Arachne was in the girls living room, watching the red-faced cat-boy and girl shout at each other—that is, until Soul Evans snapped his head towards her, hissed violently and put himself between her and his master. Even when the girl was threatening death upon him, he protected her. His cynical outlook of the world was dwindling, she realized gleefully, perhaps he really was learning his moral lesson!

" _You!"_ Soul spat, pointing a finger at her. He was holding a couch cushion against his crotch to keep his decency but it was doing nothing to hide how red his face was—it reached down to his chest. Arachne's sympathy only reached about four percent. " _You_ did this to me! What the fuck are you doing here?"

"What the hell is going on?!" Maka shouted, backed up into a corner.

"I am _stopping_ her from hurting you, what do you think I'm doing here?" Arachne told him instead, ignoring Maka. "I don't fancy meetings with my projects, but I thought now would be a good time for one," Arachne smirked and he hissed again. "You, lower that lamp. He's harmless."

Maka flashed her eyes to Soul and lowered her lamp a little. "What is going on? Who are you and how did you get here? A-and him—what about him? Who or _what_ is he? What happened to my cat, I want him back!"

"What? What do you mean _what,_ Maka, that goddamn _witch_ —mmph!"

"Ah, ah!" Arachne made a zipping motion and Soul's screams muffled, the cat-boy clawing at his shut mouth in panic. Maka swallowed, looking back at the witch when she chuckled. "There we go. Now, as for who I am, you may refer to me as Witch Arachne," she smiled beautifully at Maka, startling her a little. "And he, well, he's one of my projects."

"Projects?"

"He's cursed, as you can see," Arachne gestured to his clearly less than human characteristics. "That was my doing—but not for my own entertainment, sadly, rather Soul here had put himself in an… _unsavory_ situation and required an intervention of sorts."

"What do you mean by that? If he was cursed for a reason, what did he do?" Maka demanded. "It had to be extreme if he's…like _this_ now!"

"It was." Arachne smiled and it was a little bitter and sad. But, as if the witch had realized this, the sadness disappeared and was replaced with casual amusement again. "He was in danger of losing himself."

Maka lowered the lamp even more. Soul had stopped struggling now and was just staring at the witch, his gaze dark. Before Maka could ask what 'losing himself' meant, the witch said, "He is learning his moral lesson, as I told him to before I sent him to the shelter. He transformed back into a human, so he's close. You must know that by now, Soul."

Soul only gave her a repulsed look.

"He's just a little angry at me," the witch drawled. "He'll understand why I have done this soon enough."

"Moral lesson. You said Soul had to learn a moral lesson," Maka spoke up, looking at him questioningly. Now that she'd had some time to process what was happening, things were making a little more sense. "If Soul has to learn a moral lesson and he's on the right track…what will happen once he learns it? Will he go back to normal?"

"He can," Arachne hummed. "Magic is particular and more familiar to humans than you may think. He has a choice in this even if he insists he does not. Once he learns from his mistakes, he can choose who to be—or split between both forms," she said ominously.

Maka frowned. The witch spoke ambiguously and Maka was not even that surprised about the fact. "Let me get this straight: he's like this because he required an intervention and you dropped him off at Marie's animal shelter for what, exactly? How could you have known he would be fine? He could have been adopted by—by people who wouldn't take care of him! He could have been hurt!" Maka shouted, raising her lamp again.

Arachne slipped out a fan from between her bosom and opened it, fanning herself. "Now, now, I would have never allowed any _real_ harm to come to him. He was under my supervision this entire time, even if he doesn't think so. Any intentional harm would have set off a series of alerts and he would have poofed back into the shelter safe and sound!" She laughed when Soul pointed a finger at her, looking pissed again, and then resorted to flipping her the bird with a cunning grin.

Arachne's brow twitched, her pretty smile plastic. " _You_ _little_ —!"

Suddenly, Soul flashed back into a cat and he meowed in aggravation when he plopped on the floor. The cushion hit him on the head and Arachne looked away innocently when Soul glanced accusingly at her.

"You're forgetting your moral lesson with all that anger! It's what you got you in this situation in the first place!" Arachne sang, snapping her fingers and freezing Soul mid-pounce to her face. "Idiot cat. Shoo—!"

"Don't touch him!" Maka yelled, startling herself. She shook it off and hurried over to Soul. Not bothering to think about how he was able to be suspended mid-air like that, grabbed him and held his frozen form against her chest. "What did you do to him!?"

"Just froze him a little," Arachne drawled, observing her. That curious white glow that engulfed the girl was back. She snapped her fingers again. "Here."

Maka clutched him tighter when his body unfroze, melting into her arms and looking up at her with wary eyes. "If…if he forgets his moral lesson, he'll go back to being a cat?"

"Correct. Or, in this case, if he gets a little violent he does. Just a safety measure. He'll turn back for a number of things until he manages to control himself. It teaches discipline. Soon he'll be able to go back and forth, cat to human. Human to cat," she stared at Soul as she said this but he only hissed at her, hooking his nails on Maka's shirt. He clung onto her quite protectively; everything for him was working out fine, in her opinion. At least the girl didn't look dissuaded by this twist. She looked very receptive, actually—she looked like she was trying to solve a puzzle. Soul might just be her biggest success yet, Arachne thought with delight.

"So," Maka began, blinking down at her cat. "Once we figure out his moral lesson and he learns it, he can turn back into a human?"

"Yes."

"It's that easy?"

"Theoretically."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, some never learn their moral lesson or they forget right after they turn back," Arachne was looking at Soul as she said this. "Believe it or not, I mean well."

"I know!" Maka agreed, smiling brightly. Soul yowled at that in disbelief. "It's like a fairy tale, right? He learns his moral lesson and he turns back to normal! If he doesn't, he'll either be stuck in this form or…"

"He loses himself," Arachne added, cheerfully. She points a long nail at Soul, sounding more sinister now. "That means losing your dear precious _soul_ , little kitten, and no one wants that, now, do they? Once you lose your soul, it's over. It's gone forever and no amount of intervention will get it back."

Maka squeezed Soul tighter. "If he doesn't learn his lesson, he'll lose his…soul?"

"That's right. Once he's that far gone, I've no choice but to collect him and hand him over to Lord Death himself. And that would be the end of Soul _Eater_ as we know it," she smirked and stood up. The cat was glaring at her as if he ate something sour—his street name, the name that many had come to associate with delinquency and fear, was not something he liked to be reminded of. But he needed to be reminded of it. He needed to accept it and walk away from it. She closed her fan and slipped it between her breasts again. "Now that we have settled this, I'll take my leave."

"W-wait!" Maka shouted. "What _is_ his moral lesson?"

"That's what he's trying to figure out."

And then she vanished into thin air, leaving Maka and her multi-purpose cat to their troubled thoughts.

* * *

Today found her back at the shelter—her mind working on overdrive, her focus the envy of most students although if they knew what was really on her mind, she was sure they'd pick biology labs over human-cat hybrids.

"How are your classes?"

"I'm on vacation."

"I thought you were going to take summer courses?"

Maka hesitated. "I was, but something came up and I decided it would be prudent to…take care of that issue first than take the summer courses and struggle with them."

"Ah," Stein nodded, handing Maka a bottle of non-perfumed shampoo. She squeezed a glop on her hand and proceeded to scrub the poodle until she couldn't tell where the fur began and the soap ended. "Anything we should know about?"

Maka shook her head. There was no way they would believe it; she scarcely believed it herself. "No, it's not that serious, but it _would_ impede my concentration in class. I want to pass with the best grade possible." Of course, this was the understatement of the year: her issue was basically life or death, if she thought about it. That is, if the 'taking' of one's soul was life or death which it certainly sounded like it was.

"I see," Stein nodded methodically, taking the soaped up poodle and washing out the shampoo with the pressured shower head. He chanced a glance over his shoulder to the white cat that sat on the edge of the counter, his chain-link collar glinting under the lights. His red eyes tracked Maka's movements but he fixed Stein with a dangerous look when he met his eyes. Soul Eater was ever the ferocious cat—at least, to anyone that was not Maka. Stein had only shown slight surprise when Maka arrived with Soul in tow two weeks back.

She arrived with him in her arms and a checkered black and red cat harness that she insisted he liked despite the way he clawed at it. He was just being difficult, she had told him, and sure enough Soul had not removed the harness even when Maka loosened it for him. Marie had been exorbitantly delighted, giggling how it had been fate that they met and it was destiny for Maka to take in the rude and ferocious feline Soul Eater. Maka's reactions were what intrigued Stein the most: her nervous, almost conflicted, expression made him think that perhaps Maka was not as optimistic as he once believed her to be. Perhaps she really was more like him, not believing in trifling things like fate or destiny. But humans had layers so Stein had kept his conclusions light and watched his closest-thing-to-a-daughter closely for any more unusual behavior.

Thus far, for the past two weeks, Maka had been coming by the shelter every day with her cat in her arms and spending more time than usual helping around. The cat either lounged around the counter or hopped to the highest place he could and dozed off until Maka finished.

She was obviously avoiding something—what, Stein could not say. But he was sure Maka could overcome it with a few simple but double-edged talks between them. Maka was both intelligent and courageous; he had faith in her recovery.

"Maka, I've been meaning to tell you!" Marie came into view again. She smiled happily at her. "We just got a new shipment of cat toys yesterday! Maybe you could look through them and see if there might be something in there that Soul might like?"

Maka smiled kindly at Marie and dried her hands on a spare rag. "Thanks, Marie, that's very kind of you but Soul doesn't like toys. He wouldn't play with any of them," but she still followed Marie into the back, peeking into the various boxes the woman had opened up for her before-hand.

"I'm sure there's a toy he must like!" Marie insisted, taking out various feather toys and—

"Actually," Maka stared, her eyes narrowing. "There is… _something_ I've been meaning to try." Witch Arachne had said many things and Maka had done her research the best she could with such limited information. As far as she could discern, the occult websites she had discovered after many painful hours searching the internet divulged that magic and the soul were familiar elements. This proved the witches words true. They often complimented each other and that was why some humans had the capacity to wield magic, although ideally _killing_ a witch was the best way to acquire this ability. Things had veered off weirdly there, from soul-eating to actual blood rituals to madness induced magic prowess, so Maka had clicked out of the website.

Most of what Maka had was theory, but if the Witch Arachne had cursed Soul that meant Soul's _soul_ had come into direct contact with _magic._ Following that logic, Maka presumed that since the Witch Arachne had also hinted that Soul would be able to choose between human and feline, this meant that the curse had altered his soul permanently. Like magic, he would be able to choose between both forms through the aid of the Witch Arachne, Maka assumed, because his soul had been bound by magic so—

"Don't give him too much," Marie chirped, putting a few packets of catnip in a baggy. "Or else he'll be tearing around the room in a frenzy."

"Right," Maka laughed nervously, clutching the bag of catnip in her hand. "It's getting late now, so I'll head out after I help Stein out with another dog."

"Okay! Will I be seeing you tomorrow?"

"Mhm!"

Marie smiled warmly in reply.

Maka let Soul walk back to her apartment. She made sure to clutch the bag to her chest although Soul kept sneaking furtive glances at her, his ears pricked back. He seemed wary of her and she supposed he should be: this was one way to prove her theory, right? Catnip did nothing to humans. It was just an itchy sensation in the nose, but it did not make people rave around like it did cats. So if Soul really _did_ have magic entwined in his soul, that meant that witch had literally made him part-animal which meant that perhaps the catnip could make Soul funk out enough for him to turn back into a human long enough for her to ask him some questions regarding this 'moral lesson' of his.

If not, Maka grimaces, she'll have to figure out another way to get him to change back.

Soul had not allowed her to grab him or touch him except to take him to and from the shelter. Even then, he preferred walking over being held. She was sure it was her fault, too: the first couple of hours after he transformed, she had avoided the cat like the plague, staring at him with uncertainty before she relaxed enough to understand that, no, Soul had not been messing around with her—he literally had no idea how to turn back and had probably accepted his future as a household cat. That had to be traumatizing, but when she tried to reach out in apology, he'd recoiled and darted back to his carrier.

He had been sleeping in his carrier for the past two weeks already.

She missed having his warm fur against her knees.

Once they arrived to her apartment, Maka knelt to remove the harness from his body. The instant it was off, he flounced away and jumped on the couch—taking the furthest corner and sitting down, turning back to her with his perceptive red eyes. They made much more sense now; despite being bound to a feline curse, Soul was still very much human. He was caged, Maka thought with a heavy heart, she could only imagine how horrible it must have been when he realized he had been reduced to a household pet. His feral behavior made a lot of sense now.

"Okay, Soul, listen up!" Maka took seat a few feet beside him on the couch. "I have an idea on how to turn you back."

Soul perked up.

"It might not work, but I need you _talking_ so you can tell me what you did that was so bad that you needed an intervention!" Maka scowled at him. Soul only looked away. "And you have to tell me. Or you have to give me _something_ to work with because I'm going to turn you back to how you were before. But for that, I _need_ you to work with me. Soul?" Maka's face fell in dismay when he jumped off the couch and headed towards his carrier.

"Soul!" She felt her brow twitch, upset. "Soul, don't you dare. Come back. We are going to do this—you _are_ going to tell me!"

Soul flicked his tail at her and curled into his carrier, tucking his paws under himself. He shut her out and Maka was left clutching the bag full of catnip with pursed lips and troubled eyes.

That night, Maka stared at the wall and wondered why Soul gave up so suddenly like that.

* * *

Another week went by with no results. Every time she tried to reason with him, tried to get him to just test her theory and see if they could force a transformation, he only turned away from her or he gave her an annoyed look and ignored her for a few hours. She never had much patience to begin with and his attitude was beginning to rub her wrong, especially the way he looked at her like she was insane.

Today was she going to do it whether he liked it or not.

She had enough of his games, enough of his apathy, enough of his _everything._ She was going to test her theory or she was going to _figure out_ another way to get him to transformation, but she was _not_ giving up like him. Maka Albarn did not give up, even when things looked dim!

"Soul, if this works, you can become human again!" She reasoned for the nth time. Soul only walked away from her and headed towards his carrier. Maka blew out of breath in frustration. "Soul, why won't you—dammit, Soul, don't ignore me!"

He didn't even twitch in reply.

"That's it!"

Before he could get comfy in his carrier like all the other times, Maka stormed over and bent down to glare into startled red eyes.

"You're gonna' tell me, Soul Eater, or I'ma get it out of you!" She tore into the bag. "This better work!" Maka tore the packets of catnip with her teeth and shoved a fistful of it into Soul's nose without warning. He yowled violently and Maka squeaked, stumbling back as Soul thrashed out of the carrier. She gasped his name but all he did was rub his nose frantically, hissing with his hackles raised, when suddenly there was another flash of light and—

"FUCK!" Soul swore, on his back with his hands clawing at his face. Maka felt her face warm; he was naked—but she hardly had time to think about it when he sat up and clutched his irritated nose. "What the hell MAKA! This— _hurts, shit!"_ He scrambled to his feet and darted to the kitchen, Maka hot on his heels. She gripped the edge of the refrigerator as Soul dunked his face under the faucet, coughing and chugging water as fast as he could.

"I'm sorry—I'm _sorry_ , I didn't think it'd be that bad! It's not supposed to hurt, it was just supposed to excite you!"

" _Well, you thought wrong!_ This shit stings!" Soul snarled and Maka apologized again, holding her hand to her chest. His red eyes flicked down to her arm and she saw his anger drain out of him suddenly. "You're bleeding…" he noticed helplessly and Maka looked down at her arm. In his panic, he had clawed her. She had three long slashes down her forearm but they barely stung.

"Wha—this, I'm okay, it doesn't hurt—!"

"Dammit," he cursed, voice rough. Soul grabbed some paper towels and hurried over to her, gripping her shoulder and taking her arm carefully. The way he pressed the towels to her arm was tender even if his apology was gruff, his spikey white hair shadowing his eyes.

"It's fine—we don't have time for this, I don't know how long you'll last like this!" Maka insisted. "We—!" She paused, looking down, and her eyes widened enormously. "We—erm—I— _oh_ —um—!" She sputtered, staring at his naked body with bright cheeks. She turned away, cursing her own shyness. "S-sorry!"

"What are you—oh , _c'mon!_ " He covered her eyes with his hand and looked around desperately, pulling the table cloth off to cover his private parts at least. His face was steaming; this was probably the _worst_ part about transforming: the nude part. "You didn't see anything!"

"I-I didn't…see anything!"

Soul groaned, thumping his forehead with the top of her head. "At least lie better than that! Man, this is so uncool…why the hell did you turn me back, Maka, dammit!"

That quickly centered her and she ignored the red in her cheeks to pull his hand off her eyes, staring earnestly into wide red eyes.

"Because I'm _going_ to break your curse!" She promised, her tone brooking no argument. "But in order to do that, I _need_ to know why you were cursed in the first place."

"Maka…"

"Soul, please, tell me! I want to help you," she clutched his arm, squeezing it reassuringly. "But I need to know the circumstances so I can figure out what your moral lesson is."

Soul hesitated and then shook his head. A bright flash blinded her for a second and then Maka was clutching her cat back in her arms. She gripped him tightly, her face hard with the weight of another failure, and when Soul did not respond to her callings, she swore and kicked the side of her refrigerator hard enough that it screeched back a step.

She let her arms go limp, letting him go if he wanted, but he stayed—he straightened up, paws on her chest, looking up at her silently while she chewed on her lower lip. She wasn't sure if the catnip would work again but if Soul kept changing back so soon, it would do her no good. If he kept being so tight-lipped about his circumstances, Maka thought with a pained scrunch of her face, then he would be stuck as a cat forever. The worst case scenario being the taking of his—

"Go," Maka grit out.

When Soul meowed softly, Maka looked down with watery eyes. "GO!" She bellowed and he jumped off her quickly, his ears going flat against his head and his tail tucked under his legs. At the sight, Maka's eyes softened and she sighed, rubbing her forehead a little. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you," she said. "Sorry," she repeated, this time for forcing him to change. "Sorry…" she said yet again, for getting angry at him because she was bullheaded and stubborn and it was one of the few awful traits inherited from her mother.

Soul wandered back to her side and sat down next to her as she rested against the leg of her dining room table.

He stayed there until she dozed off and, for the first time in nearly a month, slept against her stomach again.

* * *

 _Why did he change last time?_ Maka deliberated, staring at the ceiling.

Tonight found her on the couch with an anatomy textbook open against her chest. It was supposed to be some light reading for the coming semester, which was still weeks off, but she could not concentrate on the human body when it only reminded her of her trapped cat-boy. _What made him change that time Witch Arachne came?_

He had told her to stop thinking like that—so hatefully, Maka thought quietly, her eyes widening. He told her not to let herself be bogged down by the disappointment of others because if she did, she would never be happy. But that was difficult to do, she argued to herself. How could she just forget the damage her papa and Hiro had left on her heart?

 _"With that mindset, nothing will work."_

"It's not that easy," Maka said aloud, clutching her shirt in her fists. Soul was lounging over her coffee table beside her. His tail stopped flicking at the sound of her voice, lifting his head, ears perked. "Back then, you told me that with my mindset, nothing will work. But it's not that easy," she sat up, tucking her legs in. She looked over at Soul and he pushed himself upright, red eyes honing in on hers sincerely. She looked away—eyes lied, right? The eyes had always lied to her. "I said before that your eyes never lied to me, but," she clutched her knees closer to her knees, "Maybe I was wrong about that."

Soul stared and—it happened again—instantly, a flash of light that had Maka shutting her eyes, gasping—

" _Where the hell did that come from?"_ Soul hissed at her, knelt between her legs. Maka stared down at him, wide-eyed. His eyes were fierce, they were _hurt_ , and stared into her own furiously _._ "I've _never_ lied to you, Maka! You're just saying that because," he set his teeth, his white ears flattening on his head, "because you found out I'm a _guy_. Because you think I'm going to let you down."

"Won't you, though?" She forced back.

He stared, mouth parted, then slowly moved away from her. He sat back on his thighs and she felt a pang of remorse at his shadowed eyes. She wanted to take those words back; they were not entirely true, if at all. Perhaps she had recoiled from him because she discovered he was a man and she had a bad experience with the men in her life, but Soul—her cat, Soul, the cat who she had fought to earn his trust so hard for, how could she discredit all his actions just based on that single thing?

"Soul—!"

"…I fucked up," Soul told her without warning. Maka stilled. "I don't know _what_ the moral lesson is. I don't know _how_ I can fix this. All I know is that I fucked up again, but this time, I hurt someone. It wasn't _just_ another fuck up, this time my brother got involved."

"…How?" Maka asked, quietly.

There were many ways he could answer that. He could lie; he could save himself, paint himself in a better light than what he truly was. But he didn't want to do that to her, not when all this time he had actually wanted to _be_ someone who never let her down when all others had disappointed her. This time he did not want to be a disappointment, not again.

She cared about him, as a cat, sure, but she _cared_ about him and she didn't mind his feral behavior or his moodiness or the way he sometimes messed up and tore a shirt of hers or accidentally flipped his tray of water over. They were small, inconsequential things, but they meant a lot to him because they were forgivable fuck ups. He could fix them—or he could push the blame on his cat self, of not being able to maneuver well in his new body, of being cursed with such bad luck it was obvious this would be his resulting fate.

He could blame others for what was actually his fault and turn his back on what was right.

And for a long time, he had done that because he was angry and distressed and so, so full of anxiety and he wanted to see his brother again, to tell him he was _sorry_ for letting everything get too far. He was sorry for joining that gang, he was sorry for pushing everyone away and for pointing fingers at his father—his mother—his aunt—when in reality, he should have pointed at himself and he should have admitted that if he had _talked to them, reasoned, tried for once in his life,_ then he would not have disappointed everyone with his lack-luster piano skills, his harsh words and tight-lips and hateful glares. Maybe he could have impressed his father with his talent in maths, told his mother he liked the idea of _making music_ with others, that pushing others to play while he helped was better than being placed in the spotlight.

Maybe if he stopped being a coward, he told Maka quietly, maybe things would not have ended up fucked up—again and again and _again_.

Soul rested his cheek on Maka's knee, gazing at the worn beige of her couch. "It's my fault," he told her. "I fucked up. That's all I ever _do_ —compared to my brother. They don't even like _talking_ about me—I've met people who thought Wes was an only child coz my parents do everything possible to keep me hushed up. Grades are bad, attendance is worse. Can't play the piano right. I'm rude and I can't talk to people and I hate parties so my entire family thinks I've got a speech impediment or something." He swallowed the humiliation of when his father agreed with that statement, that he was just a little _ill_ so he that was why he was so odd. Soul gripped the edge of the couch but then her hand was there, soft, small and warm and he clutched onto it like an anchor. "I joined a gang. S'easier, to just leave and become what they say I am. It was alright for a while," he said, miserable. "It was great. I didn't have to go to shitty parties, I didn't have to be polite or talk to random people. I didn't have to try so hard to catch up to my brother. Except it's a _gang_ …and you have to hold your weight if you wanna' stay."

Maka squeezed his hand but his went limp. She did not let go.

"I was supposed to rob a store," he told her after a few minutes of companionable silence. "Me and two other guys. The others said it would be easy—just take a gun and threaten to shoot someone in the head. They didn't give me the gun, my friend had it, but they said the gun wasn't even loaded, it was for show. All I needed to do was make sure the money got out."

"Did someone get hurt?" Maka asked, gently. She was squeezing his hand so tightly now. Soul wanted to stop talking; he didn't want her to look at him like scum. He didn't want to disappoint her, too. "Soul?" She coaxed. She pulled his hand up and pressed it against her thigh tenderly. "Tell me what happened next."

Soul's mouth was dry, but he continued: "I—my friend messed up. I think he was nervous or something because when he took out the gun, it went off. It _was_ loaded, they lied and my friend probably knew it was loaded, too. No one got hurt, but by the time my other friend managed to get the clerk to put the money in the bag, someone had called the cops. And they threw the gun at me and ran for it," he sighed. "I was the last one to leave with a gun in my goddamn hand and I didn't even do shit. Someone saw me and reported me."

"Did you get caught?"

"…No."

Maka furrowed her brows, clutching his hand tightly. "But?"

"…My brother did," Soul swallowed thickly. He hunched over even more. "He looks almost exactly like me. I…didn't do anything about it."

It was quiet for a while as his words soaked in and their significance became clearer and clearer. Soul let go of her hand when she did not respond and pulled away because he _was_ a disappointment—he was just a fuck up, he was what his aunt said he was: a delinquent trouble-maker with no real redeemable qualities. He was a faulty copy of his brother, only part of the family in appearance, and he had proved her painfully right with this debacle.

"I know what your moral lesson is," were Maka's first words since his confession.

Something like confusion flickered in his eyes and when he dared to look up, ears flat on his head, tail between his legs, Maka was smiling down at him so gently he could cry. But he didn't, he looked back down and felt that he didn't deserve the forgiveness in her eyes.

"Hey, listen. You made some mistakes growing up and that's okay because that's how people learn. And you _are_ learning," she told him, smiling a little wider when he snapped his head up in surprise. "You're learning not to blame others for your mistakes. You told me yourself: if you had communicated better, maybe none of this would have happened. That's already progress, Soul, you're doing great," she laughed lightly and reached over to pet his head. "But that's not enough because now that you know that you've made some mistakes…you have to own up to them."

He immediately rejected her touch, flinching back while she carefully called his name. Soul felt sick; how was he supposed to own up to something like that? He basically sold out his own brother. He hadn't gone to correct them; he had let his brother _down so badly_ that sometimes he could not look himself in the eye _._ How could anyone correct that—how could anyone _face_ someone after that?

"You are _not_ your mistakes!" Maka caught his eyes and did not let him look away. "You messed up, but the important thing is that you _know_ you did and you can face them in order to make them right again."

"Maka, you don't understand—I _let_ my brother take my blame _! I let it happen_ —I could have fixed things, but I just…I was _relieved_ he got caught!" Soul insisted. "That it was him, not me, for once! I just…I'm a shitty person, Maka, okay, that's it."

"No, it's not!" Maka shouted right back. "That's not just it! You're not a bad person! Don't give up like that!"

Soul groaned. "Yes, I am! I'm just a shitty person and the longer you're with me, the faster you'll realize—!" He clamped his mouth shut, lowered tired eyes down and pushed away from her.

"Realize, what? That you'll hurt me? That you'll end up messing up again?"

"YES! Again! Like I always do, alright, so fuck off!" Soul snapped harshly, not facing her. "Just let me be a cat. I can't fuck up that much if I'm a cat, right?" He added with a twisted humor.

"…MAKA CHOP!"

His head _hurt._ In fact, he was sure he screamed murder after getting hammered with what felt like a ton of bricks. Soul shook himself off when his vision aligned again and was picking himself off the floor, about to snarl at her, when he froze at the sight of her watering eyes—her determined, watery eyes as she sucked back a sob and lowered the anatomy textbook in her hand. She let it fall off the couch and onto the floor.

"Don't you _ever_ say that again!" Maka cried. She snuffed back tears. Soul stared in surprise; she was crying, but her voice was so even. If he hadn't been looking at her, he would not have known she was crying in the first place. "You're _not_ better off a cat! You're better off as _you_ and I know it's hard and that you made a huge mistake but if you keep being a _coward,_ nothing is going to work." She gave him a wobbly smile. "If you don't change that mindset, nothing will work, Soul, you've realized this already. It's hard and I know you feel embarrassed and ashamed but…you're _not_ alone in this." She wiped the back of her hand under her nose and held out her other hand at him. "You have _me._ I'm sorry for saying you'll disappoint me because you really haven't all this time. You told me the truth and—and you've never lied to me and I don't want that to change! I'm glad I was wrong! I _admit_ to that," she said pointedly. "I was wrong."

She didn't mind his nudity; it didn't matter to her in the grand scheme of things. She didn't mind that she was squished to the couch with his body over her because he was shaking and he was clinging onto her so tightly. She wrapped her arms around him and locked them behind his neck to reassure him that she would not let him face this alone, not like he always has, not this time. She didn't mind his choked, "idiot—you're too naïve!" because the way he mouthed _thank you_ against her neck made everything worth it.

He was not alone, but neither was she.

* * *

A few days after that incident found her going out with her friend for real this time—no hidden agenda, no nothing, just a hang-out although Soul had squinted at her when she told him that. He seemed to have lost complete confidence in Liz after she brought Kid into their home.

"Can we drop by the bookstore?" Maka asked into her phone as she scourged her drawers for something decent to wear. She pulled out a few skirts and had decided on a short, pleated blue one when she felt Soul's tail swipe against her calf. When she looked under her arm, she found cat-Soul prodding some of her clothing with a distinct look of wonder. Maka placed the phone on her shoulder to muffle her next words: "Shut up, Soul—I wear nice things, too, sometimes!"

The skeptical look her cat gave her made her want to kick him, but she just stuck her tongue out at him and continued her conversation with Liz.

Maka would say their progress regarding Soul's change back into a full human was coming along smoothly—for him. Sometime between his first change and the guilt-laced one that sparked his confession, Soul had become very blasé regarding his changes into a human—more specifically, regarding his _nakedness._ He still immediately grabbed the cushion, but he had not issue with other parts of his body that Maka definitely _did_ have an issue with because they were very nice to look at; too nice, almost.

Maka guessed his lax nature over him walking around naked had to do with him transforming while she was at the shelter and lounging around naked because she never found a time to buy him some clothes. Since he spent the majority of his time as a cat around her, it always slipped her mind. Alone, however, was another story.

But today all of that would change.

"Neh, Maka," Soul rumbled near her ear, freezing her in place. She had not even heard him change into a human that time; he was getting a little too good at this. Maka's face whitened then reddened when he leaned against her, his bare shoulder warm against her back. "Can you also buy more milk? We ran out last night."

"SOUL!" Maka screeched. She fumbled with her phone and pressed the mic against her chest, sending him a slit-eyed look over her shoulder. "What are you—you idiot, the blinds are down!"

"So?" He yawned, revealing sharp teeth. He had his legs closed—he was being discreet, wasn't that enough?

"Ugh—gross, your breath smells like cat food!"

"Whose fault is _that_? I can't believe you're still making me eat that shit!"

"You are _finishing_ that bag, Soul, I spent ten dollars on it!"

Soul just scrunched up his face in disgust. "It's inhumane."

"Shut up—you told me it wasn't even that bad! That's the only reason I'm making you eat it!" She ignored his sputters of protest to go back to Liz, casually lying and saying Soul had jumped on her outfit for the day by accident. Lying to Liz about her multi-purposes cat had become almost too easy. "Soul, I'm serious, change back! _The_ _blinds are down!_ People might see you!"

Soul looked behind him from his cross-legged pose behind Maka. If any human were able to see from _that_ far away, then he'd be concerned. But considering his sight and smell were on higher plane than usual and he was basically part-cat for the time being, Soul was sure he'd be able to hide his private bits from any voyeur. So far, Maka was the only girl to have ever seen him naked and he planned to keep it that way. He felt comfortable with Maka—he wasn't sure what it was, if it was some innate cat trait that had become instilled when Arachne cursed him, but around Maka felt _safe._ As a result, his more human faculties tended to dull. He sometimes forgot he was even naked because she just felt so like _home and warmth and safeness_ that he had no worries—that is, until she freaked out and reminded him again of his lack of clothing.

"Nah, I'd catch them before they catch me," Soul cheeked.

"Soul— _transform this instant_ , you dumb cat, before I do it for you—no, Liz, sorry, Soul keeps causing trouble!" Maka laughed, nervously. "Voice? What other voice, it's just me here."

"Funny, you were always yapping about me _not_ being human before but now that I _am_ you're always telling me to go back to being a cat," Soul grumbled, standing up. He stretched as Maka thoroughly ignored him and looked down with a deeper sigh, looking for his trusty couch cushion. "You _could_ buy me some boxer shorts. Not the loose ones, but the tight ones. The loose ones feel weird," he droned behind her.

" _SHUT UP!"_ Maka snapped her head at him and then came face to face with—

"MAKA, C'MON, NOT COOL!" He gaped, covering his lower bits with his arms. This was overkill: she had literally been _right there_ today. Maka had dropped her phone in her embarrassment and with his heightened hearing he could hear Liz shouting at her to tell her who she had in the house with her. "Get the phone, dumbass— _quit_ _looking at me_ ," he growled, back with a cushion over his crotch as Maka decided that she'd never be able to erase the image of Soul's penis from her mind ever again. It was futile—how many flashes had she gotten already? If she had doubts before, they were gone by now.

"Liz, can I call you back? My neighbor got kicked out of the house by his wife," Maka made up flatly and when she hung up, she grabbed one of her shirts and threw it at Soul. "Idiot Soul! Go back to being a cat! I don't want to see _that_ every time!"

Soul glared. "Yeah, and I don't like flashing it to you every time but you keep forgetting to buy me boxers so deal with it!"

" _Soul_."

"Maka, you see it all the time in your anatomy book," Soul groaned, looking away to hide his red cheeks. He did not want to go through this every single time. Some normality until he got boxers needed to be established. "Th-think of it as, like, studying!"

Maka gawked at him. "Soul, I am _not_ going to use your body as a study tool!"

"Why not? It's a body, right?" Soul scowled, offended. He wasn't that bad to look at, was he? He thought he looked good for someone who ate cat kibble and basically lazed around all day. In fact, he realized suddenly, he hadn't lost any muscle mass from the time he had been cursed. His body was exactly the same but he stored these observations for a later time. "It looks like the one in the book—look, you can even see the muscles on my chest and—!"

Maka flailed her arms. No, no—she did not need any more reminder of his surprisingly fit physique. She knew that already. "Ch-change back or else I won't buy milk tonight!"

Soul sighed loudly. Being a cat had begun to be more and more of a liability to him. As a cat, his interactions with Maka were limited to petting and curling around her leg when he wanted something—and yowling, he yowled when he wanted something, too. As a human, he could speak to her and eat normal people food, which, in Soul's eyes, _far_ exceeded the petting. But he liked the petting nonetheless—an unsavory yearn that his cat-side shuddered over with delight while his more reasonable side blanched at. But Maka's cooing affections in the form of petting and cuddles were still begrudgingly accepted by him—keyword being _begrudging._

"Fine." And a flash of light later he was back to being a household cat.

Maka rubbed her eyes out with both hands and grabbed her clothes for the day, nudging a grumpy Soul with her toe when he ignored her. She nudged harder and harder, her toe scratching his furry neck until he caved and looked up at her moodily. Maka smiled apologetically. "Sorry…I'm just not used to seeing a naked boy. I-I've never seen one before so…" Maka looked away, overlooking his round-eyed response—never hearing his incredulous choke-cough in his head. "It's just weird for me. I'll buy you some boxer shorts today while I'm out with Liz. I'll try to be discreet, but if she catches me, I—won't buy them. I'll go another day."

With that, Maka hurried to the bathroom to change and Soul hopped on her bed and decided perhaps being a cat _was_ better than scarring Maka anymore than he already had.

He made a mental note to buy her dinner when he was very human as a form of compensation for all the flashing he did to her.

* * *

Later that day found Maka cursing herself for letting her lies get so out of hand—she should have just gone on her own time, but time spent at her home was scarce with her night job so she had wanted to spoil herself a little. This was the result of such selfishness.

So here she was, going shopping for her father's _underwear_. Only it was not for her father, but rather her cat, who was not _entirely_ a cat but rather a very attractive twenty-something-year-old who had taken a penchant to sauntering around in the nude because he had nothing else to wear. Never mind that if she ever convinced him to wear her own clothes, they would never fit him. At least he kept out of her sight when he could, but the thought still had steam pouring out of her ears.

 _He's seen me naked,_ Maka thought idly as she held out a pair of skull bone boxers. She fought down the red in her cheeks because Liz was beside her, fiddling with something on her phone. _He—that's why he kept darting under the bed and he never came out when I was changing,_ Maka realized. _It's because he's not a cat, so he—ooh, why did I always hug him when I was half-naked?!_ It was probably because his fur was so soft and it felt nice against her skin. His fur was very thick and warm and often times she liked cuddling him with him at night under the excuse of it being too cold. He was like a furnace sometimes and it was welcomed during the winter.

"Don't tell me you're gonna' buy your dad _those_!" Liz exclaimed. "He's, like, forty something!"

"Wha—I mean, why not, they're kinda' cute," Maka defended, then paused. "Or maybe something with fishes on them would be better…" Soul loved the beef canned food, but he adored the tuna one. She knew why he preferred canned food now and still cringed at the thought of feeding a cat-human hybrid cat food for so long.

"Nono—you told me that your dad usually wore those tight boxers, right?" Liz prompted, wandering over a few racks. She threw Maka a plain black pair and Maka swallowed. "Those look alright. Nothing fancy, right?" She grabbed a pair of white and gray form-fitting boxers as well and Maka caught them all. "Those are medium, are they good?"

"Uh—y-yeah, they look like they'd fit him!"

Liz gave her a strange look. "Didn't your dad tell you his size _before_ you came?"

Maka flushed. "I-I mean, I haven't gone shopping for my dad in a while! He—is always busy, and when he mentioned that he needed some new clothes, I offered to buy him some. I bought him another suit a few days ago and some socks, I just needed these because I didn't have enough money at the time," Maka lied with a nervous laugh. "He needs new outfits now—his old clothes are too worn and old."

"So that means you and your dad are on good terms now?"

Maka froze, but forced herself to nod. She and her dad were on horrible terms, actually. Her dad was holding up his job now, but just a few weeks ago he had been phoning her and begging her for money again. He didn't often beg her money, he usually only did it when he was truly broke, and she usually gave it to him even though there was one instance where she had refused and hung up on him. She'd felt horrible, but figured he needed the lesson. She did not know where he acquired the money after that, but he managed to pay his rent and find himself a better job afterward.

She thought it would be the end of his scrounge for money, but it hadn't improved much. He'd fallen back into his vices a few months later and had been back to square one before she even realized it.

Maka did not need her father to tell her that he blew off his money on drinking and sex binges when she asked _why_ he was broke again. But there went weeks, even months, where he seemed like a typical American father hard at work—then, one night, it would all change out of the blue, and for the next few weeks he'd be hitting club after club, bar after bar, and spending his savings on women and drinks with his friends. It was what drove Maka out when she was sixteen, having her father sign the consent form for an apartment when he was drunk. It was a low move and her father had regretted it in the morning, but Maka had been relieved for leaving such a toxic environment.

Her father hadn't visited her in months, only calling her every so often to alert her that he was alive and breathing. He seemed fine recently and Maka was glad, deep down. But sometimes Maka did miss her father's presence—although she'd first die than admit such a thing to her dramatic papa.

"It's good that you're getting along with him now," Liz continued, her smile soft. "I know your dad can be pretty shitty sometimes, but he's a good guy."

Maka pursed her lips.

"He calls me to ask how you're really doing."

Maka stilled. "He…he does?"

"Yeah! He's always sending me messages asking me to make sure you're eating right, that you're not short on cash, if you're happy, that sort of thing. I told him about your cat—how you love him to bits and how you'd marry the thing if you could," Liz teased with a laugh. Maka cleared her throat at that. "Your dad's really relieved for that. He told me he's glad you're not alone anymore—I think that's what killed him the most, knowing you moved away because you'd rather be alone than with him."

Maka lowered her eyes. Soul's words echoed through her head— _if you keep thinking like that, it won't change anything, you won't be happy—_ but it was hard to forget years of neglect and hurt by the hand of her father. Her father, who busied himself with drink and work after her mother left them. Her scummy father, who kissed her and hugged her like she was the only thing that mattered in the world and then kissed and hugged strange women in the same way. Her father was definitely imperfect but, Maka reasoned tiredly, he was _still_ her father…

"I think…I'm slowly forgiving him," Maka told Liz, unsurely. Then her voice evened. "Not entirely. I don't think I'd entirely forgive him. But it's a start, right?"

Liz gazed at her for a moment but then smiled happily. "Yeah, it's a start. Now, c'mon! Buy those things so we can get out of here and get some popcorn and drinks before the movie!"

* * *

Two days later found her massaging her temples, trying not to stare as Soul opened the refrigerator in boxer briefs and scoured it for something to eat. The damn things fit him perfectly—he'd even been pleased with their stretch and material and given her a wide grin and promise that he'd pay her back when he managed to get a hold of his bank account.

But that was the least of her problems.

Maka had taken a dive into hell because if Soul looked good naked, he looked _drop-dead_ in boxer briefs. She supposed she would get used to it, seeing him around in such a state, she would even say she'd almost gotten used to seeing Soul walk around naked—or sneak around, as he always made sure he was never in her direct sight. But her peripheral sight was well-developed from years of glaring at her dad from the corner of her eyes so she needed to mentally hold herself back from letting her attention stray lower than his abdomen.

"Do you think I should buy you a shirt?" Maka asked later that evening, scooping some ice cream out of the tub. Soul was lounging around as a cat, spread out by her side with his paws curled lazily. "Or some shorts? I should have bought you some when I got you those boxers…" She added with a frown.

A flash of light and Maka stared at her ice cream with pink cheeks, hearing Soul shuffle for his underwear before he spoke: "Nah."

She looked and he was decent, cross-legged beside her now. He was slumped against the couch, his eyes sleepy. She couldn't help a small smile at the sight.

"It's fuckin' hot during the day—being a cat is torture, with all the fucking fur. And shedding, I shed like _hell_ when I'm a cat," he grimaced, scratching his head with his hand. She noticed his sharp nails but they did not seem to bother him. A few white hairs fell out and Maka watched Soul glare down at the offending hairs. "At least my hair doesn't fall out too much when I'm a human."

"It's the worst because your hair is _white_ and it gets on everything," Maka sighed, giggling at his begrudging look. "But if you're that hot, you can always shower!" Maka paused, realizing something. "Soul… _when_ was the last time you showered?"

Soul glanced at her with a sly grin. "Since you adopted me—!"

"AHH! GROSS, SOUL, I LET YOU HUG ME, TOO!" Maka wailed. He slept in her bed! He lounged on her couch! She was going to kill him.

"Relax! I showered when I was able to turn back into a human long enough," Soul sniggered, only grinning at her deadly look. "I promise, I did! I felt gross, too, y'know, that's the longest I'd gone without a shower. But it's kinda' different when you're a cat…."

"Different?" Maka prodded, curious. "How?"

Soul shifted uncomfortably. "Well, like I _knew_ I haven't showered but I didn't feel dirty? And when I did—I….uh, licked myself?" He cringed. "There's certain actions I can't control—or I don't realize are happening until they already are. I caught myself licking my paws a lot of times while I was at the shelter and it grossed me out, except I didn't taste anything except fur. Eventually I just stopped thinking about it," Soul shrugged. "Let it happen. I wasn't really aware of it until I was coughing out a fur ball. That sucks."

"That's so…strange," Maka commented, intensely curious now. "Witch Arachne mentioned how magic and the soul were more familiar than we believed, and you telling me this makes me think that maybe you _are_ half-cat now. The curse has altered your soul to the point where you are half-human after all. If your form had only been changed, then you would not have these… _habits_. Does purring count?"

Soul scowled outright but nodded reluctantly. "Happens…when I'm _happy_ , I guess. What else do cats purr for?"

"Hmm…I'd like to ask the witch myself, but I think my theory is right!"

"I'm a half-human, half-cat mutant. Great," Soul summed up bitterly.

Maka smiled sympathetically. She reached out and scratched his head in comfort, freezing him. She scratched where she always did when he was smaller, when he was full cat, and watched as he lowered his head to her will, a rumble coming from his chest. Then he jerked his head away and uttered a sharp curse under his breath, his embarrassment readily seen on his face with his red cheeks and lowered eyes.

"It's not weird," Maka told him, gently. "It's normal if the witch changed the shape of your soul, right? She did say you had a choice in the end. You can choose to be fully human again! Then these tendencies," Maka reached her hand out and he hesitantly neared her, eyes guarded but willing, "will disappear completely."

"It's embarrassing," he mumbled and wiped a knuckle under his nose, brows furrowed. "S'not cool."

"I won't tell anyone," Maka assured kindly, rubbing his head. She nudged him down until he was lying on his side, elbow stuck out to prop himself up. She nudged him again and he shifted until his head was pillowed on her lap completely, curled into himself protectively. "I promise I won't tell anyone, Soul," Maka smiled warmly and Soul closed his eyes, letting the rumble in his chest sound loudly in the apartment, content vibrations that made Maka's smile widen a little more.

He was accepting this unpleasant part of himself, those unpleasant actions that had landed him in this situation in the first place. He would soon accept all of himself, deal with the consequences of his actions and accept them for what they were, and then Maka is sure he will break the magic of the curse.

She believed he had the courage to.


	3. Chapter 3

**Cloudburst  
by.** _Poisoned Scarlett_

iii.

"C'mon, Soul," Maka says impatiently, tapping her foot as she waits for Soul to pull on his long-sleeved shirt. He did, with a scowl, awkwardly pulling at the sleeves and neck. "We're going to be late! I thought _you_ wanted to see this movie!"

"I _do,_ " Soul insisted, but also wanted to dart under the bed and never leave again. This was the sixth time in about as many days that Maka has forced him outside after she made an executive decision a week ago and bought him a whole outfit. It was kind of geeky, with a graphic tee and black jeans and an plaid over-shirt, and they spent a couple of hours arguing over her terrible fashion sense, which only led to online shopping—and since his body hadn't changed since his cursing, he remembered his measurements—which resulted in a few pairs of clothes that he promised to pay back when he got a hold of his bank account. But going outside—being a member of…. _society—_ was frankly a traumatizing experience.

Even though no one even looked twice at him, and at least one person complimented him on his hair color and asked what dye techniques he used.

It still sucked, though.

"Then let's go!" Maka fiddled around her phone, checked the time again. "We'll make it just in time for the previews!"

"Fuck previews," Soul grumbled, lip twitching when Maka elbowed him in his ribs but grabbed his wrist to whisk him out of the apartment. The other few times Maka had dragged him out, it had been to small and isolated places—a bookstore, a corner café, an empty diner at midnight, the park midday—and even though he'd been apprehensive then, it wasn't too bad all things considered. But movie theaters—those had people, that required some _interaction_ on his part.

"C'mon," Maka beamed.

"Do we have to walk there? You have a car."

"I have a car for the _week,_ " Maka reminded. "Papa is away and he needed someone to watch over it."

"Exactly, what better way to watch over it than to use it?" Soul grinned sharply. "He left you the keys and everything." Actually, he pretty much gifted the thing to Maka but Soul was sure Maka wouldn't take it unless it was given under another pretense— _like her needing to watch over the car,_ for example. At least her father knew she was stubborn in that regard.

Maka snorted. "This'll be good for you! You need more exercise, Soul, all you do is eat and sleep on your free time!"

"Do not!"

"Playing with the yarn doesn't count," Maka teased, laughing when Soul shot her a look. His eyes softened soon after, and he followed her down the block silently as she talked to him about her day, his hand squeezing hers whenever they walked past people. He kept his eyes down, paranoid someone would recognize him, but no one did as the past few times demonstrated.

"Ooh, the line is moving! Look, Soul!" Maka pointed out, cheerfully. There would hardly be a line by the time they got there. "We got here just on time! Hopefully we'll be able to get popcorn before the movie starts, there's a lot more people than I expected."

Soul nodded and followed Maka in, lurking in the back after they entered the theater as Maka bought them snacks. He would have stayed there, too, but some little girl hadn't totally tripped over her shoelace and sent her open can of coke flying towards him. Unwittingly, Soul bared his sharp teeth and hissed, leaping away lightning fast, avoiding a spill down his jeans.

The little girl stared, eyes round and mouth gaping.

Soul pulled the beanie down on his unruly hair, snapping his mouth shut and paling. This was why—this was also why he didn't want to go out. Going out meant reining in these instincts which right now _screamed_ for him to leave, find safety— _Maka—_ and quiet.

"How did you…" the little girl whispered, but by then her mother had come, scolding her and pulling her upright. Maka appeared right after, holding a huge bucket of popcorn and two drinks, blinking at the scene before her.

"But, _mom,_ he _hissed_ at me like a lizard!"

"Katy, he did not, now let's go…"

"What was…?" Maka began as she watched them go, before Soul pressed behind her and pushed her down the hall. "Ack, Soul, the soda!"

"Got it," Soul grunted, grabbing both sodas. "It was nothing. She just fell, freaked me out." He pushed her into the darkened room, having no troubling navigating the dark while Maka followed a little more unsurely. Soul gracefully led them to their seats, grabbing the bucket of popcorn before it could topple out of Maka's unsure grip.

"Thanks," Maka breathed.

Soul nodded, waiting for her to settle.

"So."

"Hm?"

"…Like a lizard, hm?"

Soul flushed, but his lips twitched up. "Shut up, Maka, she freaked me out."

Maka grinned down at the bucket of popcorn, but didn't say anything else. Soul figured it could always be worse, and took a drink of his soda.

"Ew, gross! Did you get Mountain Dew?"

"I thought you liked it?"

"When did I _ever_ say I liked Mountain Dew?"

"That time we were watching TV!"

"Oh, my god, I said the commercial was _cool_ not that I'd ever drink this shit! Ugh, it taste like piss. It tastes even worse than I remember!"

"Quit being such a baby—here, then, take my Coke!"

"But—!"

"Give it!"

"Maka, quit moving, it's fine, I'll just—!"

" _Soul,"_ Maka hissed.

" _Maka,_ " Soul actually hissed, and then realized his error—found when Maka's eyes widened and her face broke into a wide grin. "Don't," he warned, but knew it was a lost cause. "Dammit, Maka," he chuckled before he could help himself, as her fingers reached over to touch his, her eyes crinkling at the sides. They had been touching more, like this, like they were _something else,_ and Soul didn't really know what to do about it (hadn't known how to deal with it even during his pre-curse days), but whatever it was he didn't want it to stop and he wanted more. His fingers tightened on hers and she replied in kind.

"Kitty, kitty," Maka cajoled softly, gripping his bicep when he leaned into her touch, suddenly more intimate than ever. He looked up at her, held her gaze, hid a grin when Maka ducked her head shyly and she leaned back with rosy cheeks. "W-we'll work on that," she added, trading their drinks quickly as her cheeks cooled. "Then you won't be so afraid to be in public. We'll even work on a full-human transformation," she said, just as low. "We can start when we get back."

"Fine," Soul said after a while, tangling their fingers together. They didn't need to talk about it, Soul thought decisively. Not yet, not until they were really ready. "After, we go to the bank."

"What for?"

Soul grimaced. "I need my money back."

* * *

"Fuck," Soul said aloud when he remembered one very important fact, hours after Maka had gone to sleep that same day. He could hear her soft snoring from her side of the bed. Soul lay sprawled in his human form, naked, on top of the bed sheets while Maka snuggled under hers and buried her face in her pillow, unknowing. If she knew, she'd have probably already kicked him out of bed. She was surprisingly a deep sleeper; he would have pegged her for a light sleeper, but then again many things he pegged her with initially were wrong. He snatched the pair of boxer briefs from off the bureau and pull them on with a heavy sigh, padding into the kitchen to grab his carton of milk, frowning the entire way.

He forgot an important part about going to the bank: a means of identification.

There was only one way to acquire that and he was suddenly very glad his mother insisted he memorize his social security number.

Soul grimaced. "The DMV."

* * *

Telling Maka the next morning had been the easy part—she'd been very understanding, squeezed his bicep in that way she did nowadays and beamed, telling him how responsible he was being, how this was progress already, him wanting to leave the apartment on his own—but he also forgot a very important fact about the DMV. Maybe being a cat had fucked with his perception, his memory of very human interactions, because all the smells and the _sounds_ were actually hurting his head much like at the theater and he couldn't get a grip on his panic and he hated it—it felt like being on center stage as a child, with a large piano looming beside him, staring wide-eyed and chalk-faced at a screen of _black_ that overlooked the stage, knowing there was an audience gazing right back at him and yet helpless to do anything about it.

"No," Soul stated, staring wide-eyed at the huge line at the DMV. " _No way in hell_."

"Soul, we have to do this. It's the only way you can get a real job! You need to identify yourself and become a resident of Nevada," Maka wheeled. "It's not that bad."

"Hell no."

"Soul!"

"Where the fuck is that witch," Soul growled to himself, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of one of Maka's over-sized hoodies and taking two steps back. It fit him a little tight, but it was still comfortable. The sweatpants Maka managed to pull out from deep within her closet, once belonging to her father, fit him well. He looked like any other young adult with a penchant for working out—like those suburban joggers that lived around his parent's neighborhood. "She has to have known this would happen! She can get me my ID, maybe my passport, and my credit cards…"

"Soul," Maka repeated, exasperated. "You'd still need to become a resident to work here."

"But I'd be a real person then!" Soul protested. "And I had a lot of money in the bank, it would be…enough."

"For how long?" Maka crossed her arms, expectantly.

"Long enough," Soul argued, tone slightly desperate. "Argh, what the fuck is that _noise_ ," Soul gripped his beanie, tugging it down further. "It's too loud. It smells weird around here, too, like burnt rubber."

Maka looked ready to haul him inside the DMV by force when she suddenly stopped, her mouth rounded in realization. "Soul…you're a cat."

"You definitely earned that 4.0," Soul replied venomously, tone aimed more towards the growing line of people than Maka herself. When he looked at her, his ire died down a little. She looked—

"What?" Soul asked, defensively.

"I'm sorry," Maka told him, sincerely. Soul's cheeks heated. "You—your senses. They're more sensitive than what you were before, and you've just recently started changing into a human. It must be a shock to your system, to be out here like this again."

Soul hadn't thought about it that way but his headache and growing inner panic told him so, too.

"Let's just go home," Soul mumbled, feeling like a failure again—he couldn't even go out for a simple _ID,_ just how much of a loser could he be?—when Maka's hand clasped onto his own tightly, reassuringly, and she beamed up at him with those pretty green eyes of hers. Their gazes lingered on each other a little too long, again, the touch feeling much more intimate than usual, before Maka smiled said again.

"Don't worry, we'll ask Witch Arachne for your ID," she assured. "And then re-acclimate you to society!"

"Woohoo," Soul muttered.

* * *

After a lot of shouting and threatening empty space, they eventually managed to contact Witch Arachne later that day.

She laughed for two whole minutes and then conjured his passport, slapped it on his face, and said that he would need to open a joint account with Maka unless he wanted to attract his family's attention. Arachne would handle any inconsistencies and magically block any attempts at revealing his financial activity until he managed to unfuck his life (his words, not hers).

"Joint account?" Soul arched a brow.

"Why can't he just have access to his own account?" Maka asked.

"Oh, come, now! Where's the fun in that? Think of it as practice should any of you decide to marry," Witch Arachne beamed cheerfully, fanning herself as she sighed out, "All those financial struggles and arguments—nothing kills romance at its core than a joint bank account!"

Soul hissed and Maka made her leave through the sheer force of her glare, her laughter echoing through their small apartment long after she had left.

* * *

And yet, lounging on her love-seat, still chuckling softly to herself even hours later, Witch Arachne gently touched the brightly glowing stone that rested on her chest. The point of the nail rested solidly on the diminishing spot of blackness that had once pervaded the stone.

"Soon," she murmured, the corners of her lips turning up at the thought. "You're much closer than you give yourself credit for, Soul."

* * *

Two days later, after facing the DMV and all its scents and sounds and paying for a new ID, found Soul actually searching for a job which is odd in and of itself; he never really had to think about _searching_ for a job. Even if his parents thought him the embarrassing family secret, his mother had enough connections to secure him a job in a variety of industries. He just never had to _think_ of—and he cringed here, knowing how it sounded— _common_ ways to find a _job.._ Even when involved in such bad company, he was still privileged, still spoiled to a sense, with an over-inflated sense of safety and _success._

But this was for the best, Soul thought absently. It really wasn't as bad as his parents made it sound. It was sufferable, _livable_ , and Soul figured he had it coming given his bad, bratty, just _dismal,_ decisions. It was only fair that he started from scratch, understood that he had it a lot easier than he initially thought.

"You know I'm trying to avoid people," Soul drawled, sprawled undignified on the sofa as Maka furiously scrolled through potential jobs in forums. He had taken a half hour break, allowed Maka to take over for the moment with something about her being able to do a better job than him since he was being too picky. Just because he wanted a _good_ paying job with _reasonable_ benefits which was also _adequate_ for his introverted personality did not make him _picky._ It made him realistic.

"There are _so_ many retail jobs available, though…and they're all nearby!"

"Maka, you know I can't work retail yet," he sighed, uncomfortably aware of the feline ears that were still difficult to shift back into human ears for long periods of time. The DMV had been hell even after coaching himself to do it—working alongside people _all day_ would probably result in an accident of epic proportions. "I'd need a job that would require a hat or something, and all of _those_ jobs are _dorky_ as all hell—and they have shitty benefits and are mostly seasonal," Soul added, matter-of-factly, shutting down Maka before she could even _start._ He was _not_ working as a hot dog vendor—that would literally kill any sort of hope he had in even maintaining a modicum of cool. And they had no dental. He _needed_ dental—have you _seen_ his teeth? He needed to maintain them and being a cat for so many months had damaged them a little, if he had anything to say about it.

"What about an office job?" Maka suggested, squinting at the job description. "It has reasonable hours, you don't need a bachelors for what you'll be doing, and it looks relatively calm. It's a lot more paper pushing than anything. Ooh, there's one at a dentist's office, one at a veterinarian office with little experience needed…"

Soul perked up, peering over her shoulder curiously. "How many hours?" He hedged.

Maka smiled covertly. "Nine to five with a lunch break, you can hold the shift that long, right?"

Soul nodded, reviewing the requirements silently. Maka gently handed the laptop over to Soul, smiling as she found him searching similar job positions with renewed interest. He had a few resumes uploaded on the cloud online which made the job hunting search much easier—Maka was sure attempting to compose a resume and cover letter from scratch would have ended with Soul changing into a cat and meowing his protest _very loudly_ in the only way he could without rousing suspicion from her landlord.

Maka left him to his own devices, wondering if she'd need to buy a suit for his potential interviews. "Hey, Soul, do you think you can order a suit online?"

Soul choked. "What for?"

"Your job interview," Maka said, innocently.

Soul stared at her. Paled, glared, looked horrified and then conflicted, and then resigned. "I forgot about that part."

"You'll do just fine."

"I'd rather spit out furballs every hour…"

"Careful what you wish for," Maka sang, heading into the kitchen. "You never know if Witch Arachne is listening in!"

Soul glanced around warily for a second before he hunkered down and searched for the least painful office position he could, anticipating days of hell but at least he'd be able to pay Maka back for her kindness somehow and maybe help out with the rent then.

* * *

"So…it's _Soul?_ "

"Evans," Soul added, shifting in his seat as the interviewer squinted down at his resume in vague amusement.

"Huh."

Soul raised a brow, telling himself to chill with the sarcasm; this wouldn't be first time someone thought his name was funny. Maka pushed him to apply for this assistant position at a local recording studio; it was pretty low-grade, Soul pointed it out as a total office secretary position, but Maka had insisted that there would be minimal interaction with people because he'd be more of a _personal_ assistant.

 _Sure, Maka,_ _whatever you say, I'll always have to talk to people,_ Soul sighed to himself.

"Huh. Alright, _Soul_ Evans," the interviewer chuckled, as if he just remembered some sort of inside joke. "You know, I met an Evans just a bit ago," he mentioned, and overlooked the way Soul stiffened in his seat. "His name was Wes—wah…" His eyes suddenly glazed over, blank-faced, before he came back online again and shook his head in confusion. "What—I'm sorry, what was I saying?"

"…You were talking about my experience in management," Soul lied, hoping he'd buy it. So that was how Witch Arachne was doing it, Soul realized. Any mention of any sort of familial ties back to his family would be instantly blocked and forgotten. Magic was totally horrifying and if he had any say, he would never fuck around with it, Soul vowed.

"Right!" The interview cheered. "So, tell me about yourself…"

* * *

"I didn't get the job," Soul deadpanned, gazing despondently at his next few options. He had sort of really wanted that studio job, it sounded cool the more he thought about it.

"You don't know that! Don't sweat it, Soul, this is normal," Maka assured, sitting closely next to him on the couch. She had her textbook out, was reviewing it, and readying herself for the semester that was looming close. Her hand was absently playing with his sleeve, with an intimacy earned through sharing beds without him shifting into a cat first, with early dawn whispering, fore-head pressing, and the barest of kisses on the edges of lips. "You haven't gotten a call back or an email or anything so, who knows, maybe you did get it!"

"It's been _a month,_ Maka."

"I've waited just as long for call-backs," Maka assured him, though even she looked a little apologetic. "And didn't he say that he would be at some conferences and stuff for the next few weeks? Maybe one of them ran a little too long."

"Yeah, but it still doesn't take a _mon—!"_

Suddenly, the phone rang.

Maka blinked and went to answer. Soul brooded a little louder, scrolling through some more jobs he could apply to. He'd already gone to two more interviews; he was starting to think it wasn't even half bad, once you got over caring about getting the job. But maybe that was just him being a pessimist again; Maka said he did it too much to be healthy, whatever.

"Soul?"

"Hn?"

"It's for you," Maka said, hopefully.

Soul raised a brow but took the phone, pressing it to his ear. "Hello, Soul Evans speaking."

Maka watched with growing excitement, a growing grin on her face, a giggle breaking out every now and then, as Soul's eyes widened with surprise and the corner of his lip twitched with every passing comment. After a few more minutes, Soul hung up, flicked his eyes to Maka.

"Sooo?" Maka coaxed.

He grinned, revealing sharp and white teeth. He didn't often look like that; Maka hoped he reached a point, someday, when he always could. She thought they were making their way there, slowly. "I got the job at the studio, he wants me in tomorrow."

Maka squealed and launched herself at him, both of them tumbling to the floor with laughter, the phone rolling out of Soul's hand as he gripped her tightly against him and laughed into her hair. She pressed her forehead to his, peering into his eyes brightly. Soul's hands settled comfortably on her waist.

"See! Told you so," Maka jeered.

"Shut up, it was a _month_ and he decided to call _now,_ " Soul scoffed, but had a hard time swallowing down his excitement. He hadn't felt this excited since—since _Wes_ looked over one of his compositions, said he really liked a page in one and wanted to play it on his violin…

"Soul?" Maka asked softly, looking down at him from where she was perched on his chest, having noticed the way his eyes went distant and sad as they looked before.

Soul gazed at the ceiling, didn't want to look at her as he rasped, "I miss my brother," and idly realized for the first time since he became a cat that he admitted that he missed his brother, that he missed _everyone_ , and maybe if he tried harder he wouldn't have to miss them—

But then he wouldn't learn what he knew now, Soul understood suddenly. He _needed_ this, he thought, he needed to _understand_ and he did now, he thought that he did and that this could work, this could help him, and with Maka's help he'd reach a point where he could look his brother in the eye and apologize for being such a shitty sibling and tell him how he's holding down a job he _earned_ all by himself and maybe they could go on from there. Maybe things would—

"Hey."

Soul glanced back at Maka's face, hovering over his, her green eyes soft and vulnerable. He wondered if his reflected the same as she shifted, squeezing his sides with her thighs, allowing his hands to slip lower on her back until they brushed the edge of her skirt, traced fingers on the inside of her thigh with a leisure heat. She leaned down and hesitated for one more second before pressing her lips fully on his, cupping his face with both of her hands, letting herself fall a little deeper.

* * *

He wouldn't know it, not yet, not for a long time, but that moment marked the end of his curse—back in Witch Arachne's loft, the gem that hung soundly on her chest suddenly cleared of all black and cracked down the middle, her hand immediately going to hold onto the crumbling jewel.

Witch Arachne smiled, a soft and genuine smile, and glanced down at the remnants of Soul Evans curse contract.

She sauntered to her mirror, made sure her lipstick was touched up, before fogging up the mirror with her breath and writing out _42-42-564_ and waiting patiently as the mirror distorted and a hollow ringing sounded from it.

"HELLO HELLO ARACHNE! To what do I owe this pleasant call?"

"Soul Evans has been released from his contract," Arachne drawled, combing long nails through her long hair. "That makes 760 souls saved."

"Ho ho, only 140 more to go before you're released from _your_ contract!" Lord Death said, sounding much too happy for one who dealt with death all the time. "That's great, Arachne! I assume everything has been dealt with accordingly?"

"Yes, he chose the split," Arachne explained. "Not uncommon. He'll learn control and the discipline will serve him well, although that girl…"

"Hmm?"

Arachne looked away from Lord Death's hollow but piercing stare. "Maka Albarn."

"Ah," Death hummed. "Yes, her. She's a special soul."

"I saw it when I first met her, but I didn't think…"

"Grigori soul," Lord Death nodded. "It is in her nature to seek out damaged souls and heal them naturally."

"Hm, she'd make my job so much easier if she could just handle all my projects," Arachne mused, flashing her eyes back when she felt Lord Death's stare become heavy. Lord Death said nothing, just stared at her with those hollow, black, eyes. Arachne felt her skin prickle. "But she's meant for greater things—she has an angel's soul, she'll be helpful in the afterlife."

"That she will be," Lord Death agreed ambiguously. "Soul, too."

Arachne nodded, still not meeting his gaze. "I'll keep my spell active for Soul even though his contract has been fulfilled. His whereabouts will remain undisclosed to his family unless chance interferes. That should give him enough time to settle."

"How kind of you."

"Yes, well," Arachne scoffed, but not unkindly. She couldn't hide anything from those hollow, black, eyes, but she could _pretend._ "Learning kindness was part of _my_ moral lesson, wasn't it?"

* * *

Alright, this was getting ridiculous, Soul decided. It was time for some change.

Soul pressed the heel of his foot into Maka's lower back, raising an unimpressed brow when she only groaned pitifully and buried her face on a couch cushion on the floor. Unamused, Soul pressed a little harder, but received another long-drawn groan and something that sounded like his name. He spared a quick glance at the clock, figured he'd given Maka _more_ than enough time to mourn the start of finals week, and this time pushed his foot into her side so he could roll her limp form over onto her back.

"Maka, it's only been one day."

"You don't understand."

"You're right, but that doesn't mean you can lay on the floor," Soul agreed, shrugging. Even a year later, he hadn't bothered to attend university after he snagged that job at the studio. He'd been promoted various times already and he earned more than enough to hold his own weight alongside Maka. He figured that was enough for now, to ease the financial strain as she tried so hard in her studies. Her eyes were already starting to grow bloodshot from lack of sleep, her skin tone sallow from _not eating_ which was unacceptable to Soul. He felt his cat ears pop on his head in agitation, some more feral part of him wanting to swipe his tail furiously behind him in annoyance and concern and panic, but he pushed those instincts aside fairly easily, instead just kneeling down beside Maka on the floor, gazing down at her frowning face placidly.

"I have three ten page research papers due one after the other starting _tonight_."

"Hm."

"Soul, I've only finished _one_ of those and my last paper is for my capstone class, which means I have to present it, and I _still_ have to attend lab for examination and why did I take those literature classes on top of my science classes? I can't do this, there's no way—!"

"You love to read," Soul reminded for the nth time. Maka groaned and rolled over, pushing her face into his thigh. His palm fell comfortingly on the top of her head, his heart settling with the feel of her beneath his palm. "Or something. I still think you're insane, but all this work you're putting in—it's amazing," he smiled crookedly when she peeked up at him, tired but hopeful. "If anyone can do it, it's you, Maka. But you gotta' fucking eat, don't think I didn't notice you haven't touched your lunchbox."

" _Soul_."

"Get up," Soul stood up, reaching a hand down to help her.

Maka sighed but reached her arm up, grabbing his wrist as he grabbed hers firmly, and he pulled her up with more ease than she was happy about.

"I'm not hungry…"

"Yeah, yeah," Soul nudged her to the kitchen, grabbed her untouched lunchbox out of the fridge and stuck it in the microwave to heat up. "Taking ten minutes to eat something won't set you back on schedule, you big brain."

"You don't know that," Maka grumbled, rebelliously.

"I do actually," Soul replied, matter-of-factly. "You _told_ me your schedule." Soul learned very quickly _last_ semester just how neurotic Maka became during finals week. After some awkward fumbling, a lot of arguments, and being kicked to the couch for two days, Soul learned to just _accept_ her need for constant scheduling and structure and just ensure she had her basic needs met—since apparently she threw it all to hell when dead week and finals week approached. "Its noon, that means you woke up from your nap early."

Maka mumbled something but accepted the lunchbox Soul set out before her, a ghost of a smile grazing his lips as she dug in vigorously. He was in charge of cooking during these two weeks and he didn't mind it: it gave him something to do, since Joe Buttataki was out on a conference and would not be in for another two days. This gave Soul a whole two days off—or would have if he hadn't left his jacket and some paperwork back in his desk which he now needed to go pick up or risk Joe's long, forlorn, sighs. Because apparently the man didn't so much get _angry_ as pull the disappointed father card on his employees and that happened to be super fucking effective on Soul.

"Hey—I'll be back in an hour, I gotta' go pick up some stuff from the office."

Maka grunted, shoveling more food in her mouth. Some color had bled back into her face; she looked more awake, less zombie. Soul snorted at his ridiculous roommate slash maybe girlfriend they hadn't _talked_ about what they were yet despite the fact that tossing a box of condoms and lube into the cart at the pharmacy store was a _regular thing_ now, grabbed his keys from off the coffee table and made his way outside to Maka's car—the same car her father conveniently forgot to pick back up a year or so ago. Maka still held out that he'd come back for it, but there was a look of reluctant fondness in her eyes when she said that nowadays.

It was supposed to be a run to the office, a cliché in his life where he forgot shit at his _office_ and he ran to grab it when he could and Maka's eyes danced with amusement whenever the sentence left his lips because she'll never let him live down the fact that she totally _called_ how much he'd like this job way before he would ever admit it to himself.

Soul felt the air leave his lungs like a blow to his gut, jacket nearly falling from his clawed grip as a familiar outline of a back met him on his way out. Tall, squared, shoulders—same stark white hair, tamer and longer than his—the familiar grey-silver suit, the custom cufflinks, the same Bluetooth headset in one ear—Soul had to catch himself, bite back the name _Wes_ and swallow down every single word that threatened to breech his clenched teeth as his brother bent over the reception desk and murmured something to the secretary there.

Soul turned on his heel and ran back to his office.

He didn't leave for two whole hours, and even he made it home, Maka was furiously typing on her computer and paid him no heed save for the flash of a smile in his direction when he stumbled through the door.

That was just fine, Soul thought, numbly.

He needed time to think.

* * *

The shift became harder to control, after that.

He had to physically breathe in and out to shift his feline ears back, dull his fangs, his nails, and his tail was a whole other issue in and of itself. He wrapped that around his waist when it wouldn't shift back, was careful not to let Maka too near to his waist in case she noticed and asked questions—because she'd know something was wrong then, his tail didn't just _refuse_ to shift back, it was like a mega indicator that something was immensely stressing him to hell.

That was difficult to hide, since Maka _loved_ to wrap her arms around his waist and squeeze.

Soul guessed that was why it all sort of blew up in his face when Maka finished her finals a day early, making room for some after-exams celebration with her friends. Soul hadn't gone last semester, preferring to let Maka hang out with her friends on her own, but this semester Maka had been _determined_ to take him since, well, that was another thing they needed to talk about—Maka _introducing_ him to her _friends._ It was like meeting the parents but more intense (he'd already met Spirit—he was thoroughly disenchanted with him and he with him and things would be terrible between them forever because the only thing they had in common was that they both loved Maka and even _they_ argued about who loved her the most through withering glares and sneers half the time).

Because his brother was _there_ again, a stack of papers under his arms, a staple gun in his hand, his back turned to him again as Soul stared slack-jawed and horrified from down the block.

And there was _no way_ Maka would let him off the hook that easily.

" _….still have time to get here, Soul, just WHY don't you want to come? You said you would just twenty minutes ago!"_

"I got backed up at work," Soul insisted, back against the headboard.

 _"Soul, you know our phones are linked and I know your GPS location, right?"_

"I took my work _home_ ," Soul hurriedly amended, and winced when Maka's tone sharpened in that distantly familiar pitch of real fury. He hadn't pissed her off this bad since he refused to tell her what he did to get him cursed into a cat in the first place—which, as he stared witheringly at his clawed hands and swiped his tongue over a sharp fang, he still hadn't gotten over. He hadn't heard from Witch Arachne in the longest time, but she hadn't come for his soul yet so he figured he was doing fine. He hadn't really _thought_ about his curse—at least he could _shift_ at will now—but it was still a reminder of what he did, of how he still hadn't mustered up enough courage to fix things with his family.

And now his brother was here, so close, and he had run away from him _twice._

Soul darted his eyes to his phone, an idea lighting his eyes. He still remembered his brother's cellphone number. His brother probably hadn't changed it. He was consistent like that.

Soul dialed the first few digits before he stopped, shut off his phone, and threw it beside him with a deep sigh.

No one had to curse him to know that after a year of absence, _calling_ his brother to tell him everything was a supremely uncool thing to do.

He'd have to tell him in person—eventually, Soul decided evasively, in a few days just so he could sort out what he had to say without freaking his brother out too much and have him shoved into a mental institution.

* * *

 _In retrospect, there is no way I'd be able to hide this from Maka,_ Soul figured as Maka glowered impressively with a just a foot space between them—somehow _looming_ over him despite him having at least four inches on her—with a _MISSING PERSON_ flyer in her hand, one of his portrait pictures that his family liked to do yearly plastered squarely in the middle. He could have probably gotten away with all this if he had acted surprised to hear that his brother was in town.

"Your brother is here," Maka repeated.

Soul nodded, shifting his weight guiltily.

"And you knew?"

Soul cringed.

"And you didn't _tell me?_ "

"I… was trying to figure out a way to contact him but every time I thought about it, I freaked out, and you were busy with exams and…" Soul sighed, looking at the missing person's flyer blankly. It had all his brother's contact information—his _personal_ cellphone, too, not one of the many other numbers he had—as well a hefty reward for just _information._ Soul's heart hurt at the thought of his brother posting all of these flyers up and Witch Arachne's magic causing people to forget they had ever seen him, ever knew of him. His brother would have never found him, Soul ran clawed fingers through his hair, so he would _have_ to go to his brother.

"Soul, you have to go find him and tell him what happened," Maka told him softly, her ire having drained out of her sometime between Soul's staring and the way his eyes got that miserable, blank look when he was _devastated_.

"How can I tell him everything when I haven't even _broken_ this stupid curse?" Soul snapped. "The whole point of this is so I get better on my own, right? And I'm still a goddamn cat, how can I face him if I still haven't learned anything?"

"That…" Maka clenched her fists by her side. Why _hadn't_ the curse been lifted yet? Maka thought that Soul was doing remarkably but Arachne had not even checked in with Soul since she explained the situation, which always struck Maka as weird but she had not put much thought into it until now. If Soul's brother was in town and Arachne's magic had not repelled him, then that had to mean something, right? "We have to contact her," Maka decided after a few more seconds of silence. "We have to ask her!"

"Maka," Soul sighed.

"It doesn't make sense that he'd suddenly arrive in town like this without her magic repelling him! That has to mean something!"

"Maybe it just means she's slacking off?"

"Or _maybe_ something else is going on and we don't know," Maka crossed her arms. "We have to ask at least, even if it's nothing!"

"Alright, genius, how to you suppose we do that?"

"Well….uh," Maka blinked. "How do we contact her?"

"Exactly."

"Wait! I think if we just call out to her, she'll hear us!" Maka hoped, eyes brightening.

"Or we'll look like total idiots."

"So, what, you're the only one here," Maka shrugged, taking a few steps back and glancing around. Soul dropped back down on the couch, brooding, and watched Maka call out to Arachne in varying degrees of annoyance. He didn't think she'd come—that witch was literally nothing but a pain in his ass—since the only times she'd come was when he was in danger or a danger to others and he didn't think he could purposely place himself or Maka in danger anymore. He didn't think he could _ever_ place Maka in danger.

"Okay, this isn't working."

"Coulda' told you that much," Soul stood up when Maka shot him a glare. He stretched out his arms above his head, let out a long sigh. "Alright. My turn." He glanced around for a second, then said, "Hey, Arachne, why the fuck hasn't my curse been broken?"

"Witch Arachne!" Maka unhelpfully offered from beside him.

"Hey, _Witch_ Arachne, why the _fuck_ hasn't my curse been broken and why the _hell_ is my brother in town," Soul snarled, feeling his claws spring out because this wasn't fucking funny, he had no idea how he was going to tell his brother except he _had_ to, and Arachne was fucking with his life _again_ without even meaning to—

"My, that's a lot of anger for such a wonderful evening we're having," Witch Arachne drawled somewhere behind him, smiling smartly when Soul jumped. She was in a black silk robe and slippers this time, looking bored with every the situation already.

"What—?"

"What is it you need?" Arachne cut him off before he could begin. "You're interrupting my spa day. I've had a rough week."

" _Sorry,_ I didn't realize the fact that I am _still a cat and my brother is in town_ wasn't enough of a problem for you," Soul said scathingly, but Arachne merely smiled.

"Is that all?"

"Is there any reason Soul hasn't been able to break the curse—or, is there any way he can still contact his brother while under the curse? Maybe make amends?" Maka asked before Soul could snark back.

"He would be able to," Arachne agreed calmly. "However, the curse has been broken for a few months now." Arachne looked up from where she was inspecting a nail to find both of her charges staring slack-jawed at her. "What?"

"Then why am I still a cat?!" Soul sputtered, recovering first.

"You chose that."

"I get it," Maka suddenly said, realization dawning to her. Maka beamed happily and squeezed Soul's hand, Soul looking more confused by every passing second. "You chose the split, Soul, this means you're going to be both from now one because you didn't reject the magic in your soul! Right?"

Arachne nodded. "You did not actively reject my magic—you'd have noticed that you can willingly shift between forms, it will become natural to you very soon if it hasn't yet—in fact, you should be able to remember the day you broke the curse. You were my biggest success story, after all," Arachne smiled smugly to herself for a moment before checking the time. "I really do have to get going, however, good luck telling your brother you were trapped as a cat for being a brat," she teased and smiled wider when Soul screwed his face up in a scowl and glowered at her—not with the same usual intensity, with something closer to mere annoyance than burning fury.

"Whatever," he mumbled, and Maka cheerfully waved before Arachne disappeared as quickly and quietly as she had appeared, leaving behind nothing more than her ghostly chuckles. "Great. So I'm going to be a mutant forever."

"You're not a mutant," Maka snorted, then clasped her hands behind her back. She gave him one of her patented sweet smiles and Soul felt his cheeks heat up as they always did when she smiled at him so openly like that. This is weird, and so out of order—Soul has _seen her naked before,_ they have _done things that would have her father loading up his firearm_ —but her smiles always got to him in really sappy ways. They really needed to figure out what they _were,_ Soul thought. But he guessed making things right with his brother took priority. "It's not like you can't decide to just stay human if you really wanted to. Besides, I think it's kind of cute."

Soul made a face.

"Now," Maka clapped her hands, eyes glistening with that familiar glint that always made the hairs on his arms stand. "To find Wes!"

* * *

It was a simple plan—for once, it was _practical_ and something he could get behind. He didn't even argue all that much with Maka when she brought it up, stating how it'd be easier for him if he just saw his brother without him noticing. Maka even let him unironically wear that beanie that he'd bought with his first paycheck she hated so much. Maka would take care of finding Wes on her own and then call him over so he can casually slid into a booth and observe his brother for a bit, both of them deciding how they'd go about things after they got to see just how Wes was holding up. Soul figured he was on business given his suit and the familiar tightness around his eyes, and everything would have gone totally according to plan if…Black Star hadn't spotted them.

More accurately, if _Maka_ hadn't spotted Black Star because apparently there was some drama between Tsubaki and Black Star that Soul had tuned out, probably, since he didn't remember hearing about it at all, and Maka was _livid_ about it so it must have been serious. Maybe things would have been fine if Soul had just stayed in his seat when Maka and Black Star went toe-to-toe. Arguing was fine—his brother merely glanced at them before returning to his associate—except Black Star was about as bad as Maka when he was pissed and, well, Soul really was serious when he vowed he'd never let any harm come to Maka.

"Black Star, back _off,"_ Soul warned from his seat, his fists clenching in his jacket's pockets when Black Star just sneered, squared his shoulders even more.

"It's not _my fault_ that Tsubaki can't see what's in front of her! I didn't do anything, she just broke up with me for no reason!"

"Exactly—you didn't _do anything,_ Black Star, and you know better than I do that Tsubaki _cared_ about your sorry ass," Maka snarled, jutting her chin out when Black Star tried to loom over her. "She's better off without you, anyway. I've never met someone as conceited and selfish as you, and Tsubaki doesn't deserve that. She already told me she's through with you—and Liz will make sure you don't try to approach her again."

"Fuck Liz," Black Star sneered, fists clenched tightly by his sides. "Why does everything think I'm a goddamn _idiot_ and can't see what the hell is going on between them? Tsubaki never even _liked_ me that much, not when it was _Liz this_ or _Liz that—_ the instant Liz came over, I stopped existing, she can't blame me for fucking with someone else when she was doing the same—"

"Take it back," Maka cut him off, lowly. Soul stiffened, going to stand. When Maka took on that tone, trouble followed; it was the same tone she took on when Spirit said something dumb about her mother or their wrecked marriage. "Take it back, she would _never._ She would _never_ do that to another person," Maka repeated, strongly, _furiously._

"Yeah, well, tell that to Tsubaki because she'd tell you that's exactly what happened," he shot back, all bravado and bad decisions. Even he looked a little unsure but unwilling to take back his words. "She did it to me so why can't I do it to her?"

"Maka, NO!" Soul lunged forward and hooked her arms under Maka's armpits before she could take a swing at Black Star. "Black Star, I think you should leave," Soul told him evenly.

"Let her fucking try—!"

" _Fuck off_ ," Soul snarled, and he's sure his eyes flashed or his teeth sharpened or _something_ because Black Star's face went through a complicated set of expressions before settling on muted fury and he mockingly threw his hands up in a _what can you do?_ gesture before turn on his heel and storming out, ignoring the serves that watched the scene nervously.

"Soul, let GO! I could have taken him on!"

"Maka, we're in a restaurant, do you really want to get kicked out of here?" Soul hissed so as not to attract so much attention, gesturing around them. If the manager hadn't come out to escort them out yet, he had hope that the scene wasn't as big as he thought it was. "You can punch him later, when we're not in public."

"He would have deserved it," Maka said, scornfully. "It would have been worth it, Soul!"

"You would have both gotten arrested!"

"Worth it," Maka huffed.

"Argh," Soul sighed, loudly. "You're such a reckless idiot you know—?

" _Soul?"_

Soul froze mid-flail, his back stiffening. He hadn't heard that voice say his name in a long while, even longer with a wretched _hope_ tinged in the name. Soul looked over his shoulder, feeling his throat close up at the sight of his brother bent over the table, his chair pushed out from behind him, staring at him in disbelief.

"Soul, it really is—I thought I was hearing things—you're here," Wes stared, dumbfounded. "You're, really here."

Maka had grabbed his hand sometime between all of this.

"Wes," Soul managed after a moment, turning to fully face him. "Uh. Hey—?" And doesn't get very far when his brother scrambles to reach him, curiously ungraceful, not the picture of elegance Soul had left behind, and grips him in a tight hug that has Soul's whole focus fixed on _this—_ his brother's cologne and the security of his embrace, of family, and everything that he had left behind and forgotten.

"Soul, where have you been? Do you know how long it's been, we searched everywhere for you and no one could find—no one even knew where you had disappeared to, there wasn't anything we could use to trace you, we thought for sure that something horrible had happened to you!"

"You can say that," Soul muttered.

"Soul?" Wes asked, worriedly. "What _happened?"_

"Right, uh, about that…"

"We should go back to the apartment," Maka interrupted, the first time she'd spoken since Wes had called out to him. "We can explain there," Maka added, smiling wanly. "This isn't something we can explain here."

Soul was even a little bit proud of the blunt way Wes had cut his meeting short—that was something that would never change, at least, his brother putting him ahead of other things. The thought was sobering, but all Soul needed in order to muster the courage to tell his brother what happened.

* * *

"We should have prepped a goddamn speech or something," Soul muttered from the corner of his mouth. Maka ignored him, leaned forward and repeated what she said instead. They both watched as the gears of Wes' head turned, faltered, then sparked again.

"A curse?"

"Mhm!"

"Like a fairy tale?"

"Basically," Soul drawled.

"Like…red riding hood?"

"Wrong tale, same idea," Soul waved off. Maka elbowed him.

"More like Sleeping Beauty without the true loves kiss, yes," Maka nodded, all of them sitting around their small dining room table. Soul was not dense enough to think that his brother hadn't noticed the fact that there is only one bed and the couch too small to serve as a bed. He also wasn't distracted enough not to notice the curious looks his brother gave both of them, of how close they walked together and how one or the other would reach out and tangle their fingers together briefly before letting go periodically.

"You've got to me kidding me. You can't expect me to believe that Soul was _kidnapped_ by a witch, cursed into being a cat, and had to learn some sort of moral lesson before his soul became consumed by darkness. This is too surreal for me to believe."

Soul blew out a breath. He was also enough of a realist that he'd, too, look at them like they needed a few therapy sessions. And perhaps they did, but not about this.

"Soul, tell me tru— _oh my god!"_ Wes gaped, eyes rounding in sheer disbelief when Soul shifted into a cat, kicked off the clothes that swaddled him when he shifted, and casually padded over to Maka on four legs, leaping into her lap and letting her rest her palm comfortingly on the back of his neck. "You—no, nonono," Wes laughed, slightly desperate. "You can't be serious. Witches are real?"

"Very real," Maka nodded.

"And Soul—wait, he still hasn't learned his…?"

"Oh, no he has! But we didn't know until just recently, when we asked the witch. Apparently Soul didn't reject the magic in his soul that allowed him to become like this, but the curse has been broken for a while from what we gathered."

Wes stared at Soul, who gave his own feline version of a shrug and a _whatever, I don't care_ look.

"….My brother is a cat?"

"Soul is _half-_ cat," Maka corrected.

Wes rested his elbows on the table, chin cupped in his palm, staring at Soul with an incredulous and slightly awed expression. Then his eyes cleared up and he cocked his head, a brow ticking up: "Does this mean you like cat kibble? Because mother recently adopted a cat, actually, and—!" Wes laughed uproariously when Soul hissed and swiped a paw at him, his hackles raising in embarrassment while Maka giggled into her palm, all the tension leaving the room in a single breath.

Soul never thought it would be this easy, feel this _right_ and like some piece in his soul he hadn't known was missing had just slotted into place _,_ but he was glad he was wrong.

* * *

The words built between then, every time Wes dropped by the apartment the next few days. He dropped by as much as he could, sometimes for hours, once had fallen asleep on the couch with his face plastered against the arm unattractively—looking too much like him, Soul had thought, or perhaps the other way around if he really thought about it. He looked up to his brother; he still did.

Soul had felt his assessing look when he woke up at night to drink some milk, felt it harden with realization when Soul walked back to bed and, instead of shifting into a cat like he had when he first laid down, crawled into the space behind Maka with his arms going around her waist, knees tucking in behind her own in a tight cradle.

They never talked about it, but Soul knew that Wes wanted to ask—wanted to maybe say that his life was a little bit too much like a fairy tale, complete with the girl and all, but every time he tried, they'd just end up staring at one another, awkwardly, unsure of how to fill the gap they left behind in each other's lives—comfortable yet uncomfortable, familiar yet not.

Those days, Wes would look up at him, gaze full of something that made Soul's chest tight like he couldn't breathe and heart heavy with an unspoken guilt.

Soul would turn to him, part his lips, think better of it, look away when his brother watched him patiently.

Things weren't right, but they weren't wrong, either.

* * *

Then the words built between them in fractures, coming out suddenly and without warning as Wes and Soul went about their day. It was similar to how they were before, when things were easier and Soul was younger and Wes spent more time at home than at the office. It brought along with it some ease that even a year and many months had bridged a gap between them, they had too much of a history to really ever be strangers:

"Why didn't you—?"

"It was a mistake."

"You could have told me," Wes said anyway, needing to be said because this couldn't happen again and they both knew it. "I would have understood. Soul, I always—!"

"Yeah," Soul cleared his throat, not looking up.

"You know I did more than pass out flyers, right?" Wes stated after a few minutes of silence.

He knew—his brother never did things in halves. Maybe that was why Maka had charmed him so much, because she didn't, either.

"Everyone else gave up but I knew you had to be out there somewhere. I was afraid you'd be doing something stupid, really messing up your life, but," he paused, glanced over to where Maka had on those big noise-cancelling headphones Soul had bought a while ago, studying her textbook intently and jotting down notes every now and then, ignoring them and their awkward conversations—something about them needing to figure things out on their own, and how she wasn't going to let her GPA suffer just because they always looked at her for a conversation kick-start whenever they fell into awkward silence. "This was better than I expected," he ended with a smile, and Soul suddenly noticed that the lines around his brother's eyes had softened. He looked rested and unlike the stressed and agitated mess he had been before.

 _He_ did that, Soul realized quietly. His brother found him and now he's okay because _Soul_ is okay and he didn't really _understand_ just how much his brother cared for him until—

"I didn't understand _why_ I had to do this until now. I needed— _this,_ " Soul strangled out, standing up abruptly to grab a soda from the fridge and maybe stop his eyes from watering, and that seemed to be all they could manage that day.

* * *

Two more days and they didn't need Maka to hover around, watching cautiously. Two days, and Soul had made Wes crack a grin that wasn't shy of painful with one of his dry comments.

"Wes, y'know that I—I had to do this, right?"

"Yeah." He did. They both did.

Soul shuffled closer, not looking at him still, and a smile ghosted Wes' lips at the familiar gesture. Cat, Wes mused, it suited him—Soul had always bristled at the thought of closeness with other people yet he always reached out himself.

"Mom and dad?"

"They didn't believe you were actually missing until about a month later, when I told them I was heading out to Nashville and printing out some flyers before I left. I figured it out after two weeks—you've only ever ignored me at least a week, and you at least saw all of your texts even if you didn't always reply. But you weren't reading my texts and I thought you'd maybe thrown out your phone considering the— _situation_ , at the time," Wes flailed an arm a bit, Soul waited for him to continue. "But after another week with no news, I started to ask around, and no one had seen you since the incident—no one knew anything."

"Yeah, Arachne sort of picked me up a few days after the stint at the store. Didn't know what to do about it since no one fucking knew I was a cat."

"What happened?" Wes hedged.

"Got dumped in a no-killer adoption center," he grinned wryly, remembering. "I was adopted and returned so many times that the center was considering just keeping me there as a store pet 'cause I'd be put down if they sent me elsewhere—or something," Soul shrugged. "Arachne would have worked some voodoo shit and make them keep me until I learned my lessons, or just moved me, so I wasn't in any danger but it still sucked."

"Maka, then?"

"She was a volunteer," Soul said evenly. She was the only one who didn't flinch away from him, who talked to him and smiled at him like he mattered, and who never pushed her luck and who was just _there_ for him even before she knew he was human.

"And now?"

"Something more," Soul mumbled, cheeks heating up.

"I see," Wes answered, watching his brother's eyes grow distant with memories, thinking this was enough for today.

* * *

Wes knew this day would come—it wasn't like he could stay in the small town _forever_ —but it still came too soon, came at just the wrong moment, when Wes felt like he was making some actual progress with his troubled younger sibling. Or not so troubled, Wes observed, watching Soul and Maka bicker about what type of ice-cream they should buy this week.

"What about pistachio?" Wes chirped, receiving two twin glares that only made him grin wider.

"No way! That's so gross!" Soul groaned. "I hate pistachio's, you know this."

"We had that last week," Maka said instead. "So we should have chocolate this week!"

"Vanilla. We haven't had vanilla in _forever,_ Maka!"

"What do you mean, we had vanilla _two weeks ago!_ "

"No, we didn't, did we?" Soul squinted untrustingly at her. Maka cocked a brow.

"I _bought_ it that time, so yeah."

"Fine, we just—" Soul turned back to the freeze, rummaged through it for a moment before he pulled out a tube of cookies n' cream ice-cream. "Deal?" He held it out in compromise, holding his breath, but keeping his gaze steady with Maka's.

She eyed him for a second more before nodding, grabbing the tub and placing it in the cart.

It's a dumb thing to fixate on, really, Wes understood there was nothing _strange_ about the exchange, but it still made his lungs seize up because in that moment—it was like their parents all over again, bickering about what kind of groceries they should buy, what type of music, what type of whatever they needed. Soul had found some balance here that he hadn't had had with their family. In fact, Soul hadn't been this content since he hit puberty, Wes would reckon. Teenage angst was expected, but it had deepened into something ugly, something that had—and Wes' throat caught with the idea—nearly cost his brother his own soul and Wes hadn't been enough for him. He couldn't even protect his little brother from himself—

"Hey."

Wes' thoughts stopped in their tracks and when he looked again, Soul was looking at him, half-smirking as he held out a tub of strawberry frosting.

"You still like this crap, right?"

Wes nodded, dumbly.

"Cool—hey, Maka, this, too!" Soul hollered, walking over to Maka but slowing down just enough for his brother to follow.

And just like that, Wes snipped that depressive line of thinking, figuring that he may not have been enough for his brother back then but he would do better this time around.

* * *

Half an hour later found them all hauling groceries up to the apartment—with Maka in the lead because apparently this was some sort of competition that Wes was failing terribly since he had only carried the bread up so far—and as Maka raced up the stairs with four bags on her arms, Wes reached out to touch Soul's shoulder.

He didn't flinch.

Wes felt something in his throat loosen.

"My flight leaves in two days. I was just here on business and they need me back to settle some things."

Soul's eyes dulled a little at that. He hadn't realized just how _alive_ he eyes really were until they weren't. "Oh. Uh. Will you…I mean, I guess we can go visit? Sometime."

"I'll come back during my breaks," Wes promised. Soul perked up. "I've saved up a lot of vacation days and I get major holidays off so I'll come back for those." He also had too many flight points saved up and spending them on visiting his brother would be well worth it.

"What about mom and dad?"

"They only host parties during the holidays. That got old when we were _teenagers_ , Soul," Wes snorted. "trust me, I'd rather be here than there."

"So they're still doing that?"

"Now it's every major and minor holiday. I think dad's going through some crisis."

"You mean mom hasn't still?"

"Please, she went through her crisis when you were fifteen," Wes smirked.

"She had so much wine."

" _So much_ ," Wes agreed sagely, remembering times when they'd sneak into the basement and snatch a bottle or two without their mother ever being the wiser because of how much _wine_ she had stocked up on. "Besides, they're still trying to set me up."

Soul smirked. "That's rare—you single?"

"Shut up, that got old when I was teenager, too," Wes grumbled.

"You were _twenty seven_ when I left!" Soul accused.

"Yeah, I was in my twenties, I had to live a little," Wes huffed. "I still do!"

"You were a serial dater, Wes, and you mostly did it to piss off mom…"

"It worked, didn't it?" Wes drawled. So they both pissed their mother off some form or another—they were both the same in some ways, different in their executions. Wes had always been social, easy to like and talkative when it mattered. Soul's conversations were often stilted if he was uncomfortable, nonexistent if he didn't like someone. The lurker in the parties, Wes remembered. "Besides," he gestured up the stairs, to where Wes noticed Maka was eavesdropping. He could just see the tip of her shoe in the hall; his brother had to have noticed, too. "Domesticity looks good on you, little brother. Mother will be pleased, and I will be free to indulge in debauchery and more wine for many more years to come!" He cackled, arms spread wide.

"Careful, a witch might curse your dick into never moving again," Soul muttered, mostly to hide the way his face had reddened.

"As long as it moves _one_ way, I'll live," Wes winked and laughed outright at the disgusted look Soul shot him.

"Gross! _I don't want to know_!"

"Pick up that bag," Wes chuckled. "Let's go, we'll figure out our schedules for my next visit."

* * *

"Pick a Wednesday, those days usually have better pricing since it's the middle of the week," Maka prompted, her arms hanging over his brother's shoulders, her chin resting on the top of his head. Soul was blinking blearily at the laptop screen, watching as Wes and Maka argued over flights.

"Tuesday has a better time."

"Wednesday is cheaper."

"I've got enough points to spare."

"You can be frugal with your points and not spend them all in one trip so you can go on more trips during the year," Maka pointed out, infuriatingly logical. "Business class isn't everything."

"For Wes it is," Soul snorted.

"I can live without business class, thanks," Wes huffed, but still hesitated.

"You sure about that?" Soul taunted, smirking. "Think about all that leg room you'll be sacrificing. The in-flight dinner, too. The complimentary _wine."_

"Shut up, I'm in my twenties," Wes muttered when he went with business class after all and Soul laughed, Maka unable to hide her grin despite burying her face in the back of Soul's head.

* * *

"He'll be safe, here?" Wes asked her on the day he was due to leave, hefting his laptop bag on his shoulder, watching as his brother went to go park the car in the lot. They wouldn't have much time to talk, but Wes needed the assurance. He needed a verbal promise, something to ease his nerves at the thought of leaving his brother here in this small town and then returning to find him gone yet again.

"He's been here all this time and he was fine."

"But will he be _safe?_ " Wes repeated, finally looking at her, and Maka understood abruptly what he meant—would he be happy here in this sleepy city, living in this small apartment, with the small things and words and events that led up to them living together and somehow being more, in the quiet of the house with soft light filtering through the cracks in the blinds, lighting a strip of Soul's intense burgundy eyes whenever he rolled his head over to look at her, all wild hair and a dopey, sleepy, grin. The image that begun to regularly greet her every day, and an image that she hoped would continue to greet her every day if she had any say in it.

They had to make things official, Maka thought with determination, and she _would_ make things official that very night because it was about time and she was tired of always being so careful not to say too much. Their relationship has always been ambiguously set, from the start, with soft and hesitant touches becoming caresses laced with intent and _fondness_. It had seemed easier to simply not think about it at the time, about how easily they came together and how Maka had trouble sleeping alone when Soul was out late some days or how Soul smiled more nowadays, didn't hesitate to reach out for her anymore. It seemed easier to just not _talk_ about it but the way Wes was staring at her, fiercely, protectively, made her want to right everything. He deserved that security, after a year and more of tirelessly searching and worrying over his little brother's well-being.

It only seemed fair, to make sure his older brother would not have to worry about him too much.

"He is," Maka answered, firmly.

Wes held her gaze for a few moments before nodding, crossing his arms over his chest. "You have all my contact information. When Soul is ready to see mom and dad, I'll be there with him. I'll come up with some story that they'll buy, and make sure they don't try and do something huge like throw him a welcome back gala or something equally ridiculous," he promised wryly, and Maka's smile widened.

"I'm trying to convince him to go for Christmas."

"Let me know if you manage," Wes grinned, looking over the crowd of people for any sign of his brother. "And if the situation changes…just call me, any time," he added, but Maka merely nodded.

"Ah, Wes?"

Wes looked, curious.

"He…you know he's really sorry, right? About not reaching out to you before or wanting to go visit his family yet?" Maka hedged, unsure if it was her place to say but needing to anyway.

Wes' eyes crinkled at the edges, fond but tired. Things were far from fixed, but they were working towards it. "I know. I am, too."

And like that, everything slotted into place, and Maka knew they would all be okay.


End file.
